A Step out of the Shadows
by lazsam
Summary: Talon began his life quietly and peacefully with a loving family... for all of about four years. Tragedy soon follows him where ever he goes and he sees no sign of hope until a chance encounter leads to a even more rare opportunity, and perhaps Talon can change his cynical views of life for the better, and be willing to leave the shadows he treads. Can he lead a revolution?
1. Prologue: Spiraling

**/AN: I have updated the prologue mainly because I felt the first couple of paragraphs were too long. I broke them up and debated removing them. However, I believe they are important to explain how Runeterra is in my opinion and set it up as such immediately. If you have read beyond this already then you will be unaffected by the changes installed. **

**I hope you enjoy.**

Fifteen years ago the sky above Noxus was no cheerier and it was filled with no less intrigued than ever. The shadows of the city seemed darker this particular winter night. The slums of Noxus stank of fear, weakness, and cruelty not to mention rotting corpses and feces. The city lived by one principle, do it yourself or die. The concept was simple enough, but it didn't account for laziness, cruelty, and just the evil that man is capable of committing. The entire empire of Noxus lived very closely to a feudal style. Groups of people lived together in villages and towns overlooked by a castle or fortress that served as protection from bandits and sometimes other villages. The only rule about infighting was: Don't do it when we are at war. It made for a hellish culture, and an excellent pre trained army sworn to Noxus.

Many years ago during the time of the rune wars Noxus was a single city surrounded by villages, but other than that a single city to a single country, much like the rest of Runeterra. With the peace brought by the truces made after the powerful magics used by all sides during the conflict every nation was granted respite. Noxus, with its questionable policies, was unstable during peacetime. People began migrating away, spreading out from the main city in an effort to avoid bandits and renegades.

Of course as people left, so did the bandits, and the bandits prospered like no other. The lack of care from the government gave rise to the feudal system the country now experienced and individual castles would sometimes raise their own flag claiming independence. The castles were generally to the west. Close enough to the Demacian border to taste freedom, but not support. The Noxian high command swiftly cracks down on these uprisings and punished the offenders spectacularly and extremely publicly. The brutality of the Noxian High Command allowed rule of the country despite dissenters.

In the outskirts of the capital of Noxus was a small hovel where a extraordinary child lived in a disgusting village. Deep into the night that young child whimpered in fear. The door to his loved rundown home was forced open and two men stood silhouetted against the harsh winter night. A gust of cold wind followed in behind them causing a small shiver to run down the boys back noticeably. Behind the men the small hovel was visible and even further in the distance the skull of Noxian high command could be seen. The eyes of the skull were filled with stained red glass and even from his vantage point the child could make out the ominous glow piercing through the night. An eerie smile bestowed the rest of its features. The smile of the skull was made out of dark marble that contrasted with the white of the rest of the building. All in all, the features were there for fear and control.

The men in front of him were no different from the building in that respect. The two men before him wore long over coats with fur trimming around the hood and sleeves, hardly concealing their armaments. They were tall and well-muscled. The men were soldiers that worked directly for high command and they were here to enforce taxes that were due. On the edge of their sleeves blood stains could be seen and one of the men had a large splash of blood across his chest. On their belts, opposite of their weapons, large pouches that jingled with every step swayed gently. They both wore frightening expressions of malice and ill-will.

The child confronting them was very young, hardly more than a toddler, but his muscles were as developed as they could be despite his clear lack of food and other necessities. The leading man began gruffly, "Where are your damn parents, boy."

The child's eyes flicked to where the door, if you could call the slabs of wood held by rusted nails a door, was hanging from its torn hinges. Through cracks in the planks an assortment of weapons could be made out hanging from a rack and blocked by the ajar door. The blades glinting through the cracks provided a slight comfort to the small child. The boy turned to look back in his house, but saw no sign of anyone who could help him. Finally, and hesitantly, he responded, "Ma-mama is in the bedroom and my papa is at the market."

"Go get your mother kid." The men stomped noisily into the living room bringing in mud and dirt from their boots. Both men crossed their arms and stared around at the decor of the house. The floor was made of very old wood, thick with rot, and slightly damp to the touch. The furniture within the room was worn and ancient, appearing to have been passed down from generation to generation. The men seemed disinterested as the scene was typical within the slums of Noxus.

The boy ran farther into the house. Much of the house was like the living room except for the weaponry. There were daggers and swords hanging on the walls, cleaned and polished, as well as several pictures of a young man with dark brown hair wearing Noxian dress uniform; He looked rough, but composed. A steely look was on his face and it seemed that he stared out of the picture as if facing an enemy. The boy's footsteps finally fell away and quick, but muted conversation, followed by tears from the child, could be heard echoing through the shack. Slow hesitant footsteps soon echoed down the hallway.

Finally, a young woman with long dark hair and striking dark brown eyes entered the room. To her obvious discomfort the child accompanied her, peeking out from behind her legs, tears still running down his cheeks. The mother was clearly trying to put on a brave face for her child. Her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes were locked on the lead man. One hand was protectively on her hip and the other made into a fist by her side. She seemed to size up the men and resign herself to her fate.

"What do you need?" She said venomously. Her eyes drifting between the two men as if unsure who would pose the biggest threat. Both men's eyes seemed to gleam at her words like a predator at cornered prey. The rear man gripped his sword and drew it out of the sheath slightly as if preparing for a kill.

The lead man smiled cruelly and answered cheerfully, "No need to be so vile, ma'am, we are just here to collect your late taxes." His eyes seemed to slowly go over the contents of the room as if he were estimating the value of each item and then he returned his gaze to the woman.

The woman's eyes momentarily betrayed her fear before she visibly steeled herself and a scowl formed on her lips. "We don't have the money... yet. Please let me and my husband have more time." The men's smiles seemed to grow even more malicious at this and they stepped farther into the house and closer to the woman.

"You know what I think, ma'am? I think you have all we need for payment." He grinned at the boy behind the woman and eyed several items within the living room. The boy whimpered slightly and backed into the shadows of the hallway, surprisingly hard to see. The woman tensed visually and clenched her fists.

"No! Don't take him! He… he is so young... I... Please... Don't do this!" She begged despite her anger, falling to her knees. The men looked at her with contempt and stepped even closer to the woman. A creak from the door was the only noise that followed the woman's cry.

At that moment the boy's father returned. The woman stood up in surprise wiping the tears from her face. The man had cloudy grey eyes and his face was marred from numerous years of service during the Rune wars. He seemed to analyze the scene before him. His eyes, resting upon the two men in his living room, sparked dangerously in the gloom. "Get. Out. Of. My. House." He spit the words out of his mouth with contempt and a tinge of hatred. His right hand gripped a dagger sheathed on his belt while the left was pointing out the open door.

The men seemed unaffected by the man's presence and the lead man stepped closer to the woman completely ignoring the father. Suddenly the rear man spun on his heel drawing a long, cruel blade from his belt and slashed it across the man's right arm spraying blood against the wall. The father staggered and released his grip on his dagger. The sword clashed against the door in a clumsy follow up. The father crouched with his injured arm low and his good arm out offensively.

The blade was slashed towards him again and again. Score upon score of blows grazed the father's body. The father was breathing heavily and suddenly the man lunged forward. The father was too slow and was unable to dodge the stab. The blade slashed through his throat and a horrific sucking sound began with each rise of his chest. The father's eyes were widened in pain and surprise. His killer looked on impassively as his victim died.

The child's screams were matched by his horrified mother. The boy tried to rush past his mom to his dad, but the woman held him back with one arm. The child collapsed to his knees and sobbed while his mother struggled to remain standing. Tears streamed down her face and an expression of true twisted fear was plastered to her face.

The father gargled and choked, spitting blood and collapsing to his knees. Slowly he fell to the floor, the sick sucking sound growing weaker as the hole in his throat clogged with blood and the life left his eyes. The silence thundered on for several moments.

Blood had sprayed from his throat; past the two men and landing on the floor covering everything in between with a fine mist of blood. So much blood. The child's grey brown eyes traced the blood spray religiously glancing at his now dead father and his petrified mother.

"I think that covers a portion of your debt, ma'am." The man's voice was cold and full of malevolence. He stepped forward so that he was mere inches from the woman. He towered over her and wore his, now common, evil smirk.

The woman cowered into the hallway stunned into permanent silence, a terrified expression on her face. Her back pedaling finally halted when she bumped into her son. Unseen to her, a dagger was held tightly in his tiny hands. In fact no one seemed to notice him at all. He blended nearly expertly into the background.

"Where are you going, beautiful? I don't think you have paid off all of your debt. How do you think you are going to do that, mam?" The man continued his approach amused with his torment of the woman. His lacky had backed off and now stood at the door exiting the house peering into the streets.

"I... I don't know... Please we have paid enough... I don't have any means to pay you! Please!" The woman cried, sobbing. Her chest heaved and shuttered with grief. Her arms were wrapped around her body, her once stoic posture completely crushed in the aftermath of her husbands death.

Another evil smile crossed the man's disgusting face. The man in in the doorway turned from his watch as if queued by an unseen maestro and joined his partner with a similar smile on his face, "You know what?" His eyes drifted to her chest and old loose shirt. "I think I know how you can pay us. His partner loosened his belt and slowly unlatched the buckle.

The woman's eyes widened in renewed terror. She tried to push her son farther in the house, but the first man said, "I think he should be here to learn this lesson with you."

The woman's eyes hardened in hatred. She somehow managed to regain composure despite the tears staining her cheeks. She seemed to have renewed her vigor and prepared herself for death rather than the fate they had in mind.

"Take off your clothes, dear. We wouldn't want to rip them." When the woman made no move to comply the man stepped closer still and eyed her son, focusing on his eyes and face. "We wouldn't want another accident with your son, like this man here, now would we mam?" The woman was defeated as soon as the threat left the man's mouth.

Tears covered the woman's eyes and she began to slowly remove her ragged clothing. Suddenly her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The two men stared in confusion until they noticed the young boy with tears streaming down his face a long bloody dagger in hand. The man stepped forward and kicked the woman aside.

The lead man growled in frustration and then spat, "You ruined us a lot of fun there, kid."

The boy stared at him with unbelievable amounts of hate in his eyes for one so young. The man punched the child collapsing him against the wall behind him. The boy sprawled on the floor dazed. A heavy foot was slammed on his chest and excruciating pain pierced his body with each breath he took.

"How about I help commemorate this occasion for you, punk." The lead man drew his saber and touched the tip against his small bicep. Slowly he applied force; pushing the blade into the boys arm, scraping the bone. The boy seemed out of screams and tears, only grimacing in pain. The man twisted his blade savagely eliciting a groan from the kid below him.

"Now fuck off, you piece of shit." The man reinforced his words by kicking the child, his heel connecting with his stomach and his steel toes pushing into his chest he was propelled deep into the hallway.

The man turned and spat on the father's corpse that already buzzed with a swarm of flies, feasting. He then stepped gingerly over the body and disappeared into the night, his partner on his heels. The sudden silence echoed in the night, nothing moved as if sensing the terrible atrocities committed.

The boy shuddered. The feeling in his arm completely numb besides the massive pain of his wound that was dwarfed by the mental trauma he had sustained. He couldn't let them do that to his mother. In maturity seemingly unmatched he had recognized their demise and spared his mother despite the great cost to himself.

The boy crawled on his knees to his mother's body. His small fingers of his healthy arm clutched her limp figure and he curled up against her cooling body. Tears once again breached his eyes and streamed back down his face. He quickly blacked out with exhaustion his mind and body ravaged.

He woke to a Towns Watch nudging him awake. "Hey, kid! Wake up! You need help. Your arm is really fucked up." The boy seemingly stared past the man. He felt light headed from blood loss. Slowly he realized that the bodies of his mother and father had been taken away. He looked about anxiously, but the world seemed oddly foggy. Appearing far away a soldier knelt beside him offering him a hand. He reached his hand feebly and was unable to grab the helping hand. The guard reached down and picked him up. "Alright, boy, I am going to take you to get help free of charge and then you're on your own."

The boy had already fallen unconscious by the time the soldier arrived at a clinic. When the child woke his arm had been bandaged and stitched together and he was lying in a large room surrounded by children that resembled him. Dirt stained their clothes as well as their faces. An orphanage at least the only kind you would find in Noxus.


	2. New Beginnings

**Chapter 1: New Beginnings **

The boy woke to a young dirtied face staring down at him. It was a girl roughly his age with dark brown colored hair tinged red and bright crimson eyes complimented her face. He couldn't tell if her skin was tan or just filthy. Behind her he could make out the low ceiling clearly and the flecks of the sky were visible through holes of varying sizes. He blinked his eyes several times and sat up groggily. A bloodied bandage was wrapped around his upper arm and a dull pain coursed through his bicep. The boy was lying in the dirt floor of the barn; around him, there were many children of different ages milling about the building. He turned his attention back to the girl kneeling next to him. She too wore dirtied clothing and she seemed to have several bruises pocket marking her body. Her face was pleasant and angular. Even at his age the boy could recognize the determination and fire in her eyes. A severe headache made his head throb. "Who are you?" The red haired girl said with a smooth voice, but somehow resonating with command. Each word felt like a knife twisting in his mind. Despite the pain the words brought, he felt compelled to answer.

The boy mulled through his head and found to his terror that he couldn't remember anything. There were nameless faces that flashed across his mind's eye, but no name to match or a feeling to present. In fact, he didn't know who he was, where he was, or even how he was. "I… I don't. I am not sure who I am…" The boy stuttered in shock and confusion. His eyes flicked to each corner of the building looking desperately for familiarity. The mahogany haired girl looked at him in surprise, but seemed to not mind his lack of knowledge.

"The overseers have been calling you Karuk. Is that your name?" The young girl supplied helpfully. The name meant nothing to the boy and apparently the young girl recognized the lack of connection in his face and continued with a slight frown, "Well, I guess I will just call you Karuk. If that is okay with you." She added casting a sideways glance at him. The boy, still confused, just nodded in acceptance not really caring for his name; he cared more to remember his identity. After a brief pause the girl said, "I am Riven." The reddish-brown haired girl appeared to be unperturbed by his silence.

Karuk, as the child had been named by this unfamiliar girl, stared into his hands flexing his fingers and looking at his palms and tracing the lines in his hands with his eyes. Try as he might, but he could not recall his past clearly to know it as anything better than an odd contorted dream. He shrugged his shoulder seemingly putting his amnesia to the side and observed the loose bloody bandage wrapped around his bicep. He twisted his arm up to inspect it more clearly and immediately regretted it. Pain coursed through it, racing to his head and causing him to lower his arm nearly instantaneously. Karuk gave up his inspection with a soft grunt and glanced at Riven who was examining his wrapped bicep as well. She eventually said, "What happened to your arm… Karuk?" She said his name hesitantly as if not wanting to offend him. Karuk looked back at Riven and then let out a long sigh. He wish he knew. He clenched his his fists in frustration. Why couldn't this girl realize how helplessly lost he was?

"I don't know, Riven. I don't remember anything! For all I know, my name isn't Karuk. For all I know I was injured here!" Karuk exploded in anger and a tinge of self loathing along with a healthy dose of suspicion. Riven's eyes flashed briefly with unconcealed anger, but after a slight intake of breath seemed unaffected by his outburst.

Eventually Riven replied, "Well, I can assure you that you weren't injured here. They brought you here bandaged up. In fact, you have been here for all of about an afternoon lying in the middle of the room. Someone came by early in the morning and dropped you off. I overheard him saying you had been through a rough time. I was curious. I'll try not to prod next time." She added the last sentence and held up her hands.

Karuk looked at her and felt a sort of pity emanating off of her. "I don't want your pity. I can't satiate your curiosity either and don't much like it." His words felt silly in his high pitched voice and he couldn't help but wish he was more intimidating than the underfed scrap he was. Riven glared at him, stood up, and walked away. He watched her leave the building and exit through a double door held open by worn old shoes stuck underneath the gap between the door and the ground. He stared around the decrepit building and saw boarded windows, mats, and garbage everywhere. For a brief moment he was angry about not being lied down on a mat himself, but decided that was silly considering the condition of everything in the building. The floor was probably cleaner than anything else. A rank stench permeated the air and eventually the boy couldn't stand it anymore and slowly heaved himself out of his sitting position. When he finally reached the double doors he was greeted by what he could only assume was an overseer. The overseer was a very old woman who rocked slowly on a chair overlooking a large fenced enclosure. Even more children were scattered about and their ages varied as greatly as their appearances were the same. All of them were dirtied and thin, but some were early teenagers and some were much younger than Karuk.

As soon as he stepped into the enclosure many children turned to face him. Slightly startled he noticed how they gazed at him like wolves; like predators viewing prey. The children were clustered in groups like little gangs. Generally the makeup of such groups were youngest with the oldest and then those in between also grouped up. All in all they formed many different packs and they all watched Karuk carefully interested in what type of person he was and where he would side. He ignored them all for the most part. He glanced at each person that tried to make eye contact though. Something inside him demanded strength and he was willing and capable of giving it. He strode to one side of the field and sat in a shaded section. Besides the assortment of children with in the yard it was quite empty. The remnants of a swing set was to one side of the yard, but also appeared to be fiercely guarded by one group of kids. Several of them brandished shiny metallic like objects that he could only assume was some form of weapon. The closest group to him sat around a destroyed seesaw and they eyed him as one viewed a threat to their home.

Many children in the different groups seemed to be in some form of argument with another and it appeared common place for vicious fights to break out. Several children limped and countless more bled from scrapes and gashes.

The children closest to him seemed to be growing more aggressive edging closer and closer to him. For now, they remained silent to him only talking amongst themselves. Suddenly the name calling started. Apparently the girl Riven had informed people of his amnesia because now several insults were cast at him including and not limited to such uncreative nouns as forgetty and assheimer. As they grew rowdier they grew closer and soon they were jostling him about, shoving him this way and that. He tried to see past the many unfamiliar heads that surrounded him, but was unable to see past the see of hostile children. A part of him was glad that Riven wasn't in the mob hating around him.

A heavy punch to his back sprawled him on to the muddy ground. Several kicks hit him before he even collapsed and he struggled to get back up. As he stood up he realized the entire field was a mob of fighting children as if hitting him had ignited an inferno. All around him fighting was breaking out. The sound of fists hitting flesh and kicks connecting with limbs echoed across the yard. He tried to find the old woman on the rocking chair while defending himself, but he couldn't see her over the heads of the fighting children and he doubted she would help anyway.

Someone staggered into him and he spun away artfully and turned to face them. Blood was streaming from their nose, but they staggered towards him fists raised aggressively. Karuk fell into a fighting stance that felt right somehow. Perhaps his muscles remembered what his consciousness could not. His bicep screamed its protest, but he ignored it and gritted his teeth. The boy clumsily lunged forward and Karuk easily sidestepped and lashed out meeting the child's arm, feeling a strangely satisfying sting on his wrist from the impact. The blow pushed the boy to the side and a quick sidestep was enough to send the unbalanced boy to the ground.

Karuk spun around looking from side to side staring at the mass of people fighting. No one seemed to spare him a glance and he weaved gracefully out of the mob sidestepping the occasional fighting pair or stray kick. On the fringe of the fray he found the young girl, Riven, sitting in the shadows of the fence studying the fighting intently; her crimson eyes darted from one fist to one arm watching the individual fights start and end. She paid no attention to Karuk as he sat down near her. From a distance, Karuk observed her. She had a strong face despite her age and her clothes were as ragged as his and the rest of the children. No one within the orphanage appeared better off than another material wise. The only advantage was strength and the stray manipulative tongue.

They sat for several minutes averting their gazes from one another and focusing on the ensuing fray. Several other children seemed to also avoid the conflict lurking on the outskirts. Or, casually sitting on the ground similarly to how Karuk and Riven now sat. Suddenly a loud ringing began, starting at the far side of the courtyard and progressing slowly into the center of the enclosure. The sound grew increasingly loud until many children within the courtyard were gripping their ears and closing their eyes tight.

Karuk looked with mild interest to the center of the mob, where the sound continued to escalate. All at once it stopped, and not just the sound. The entire yard was still. The children were practically frozen in place. The only movement were those on the ground scuffling away licking their wounds. In the wake of the bell silence thundered about the clearing. Karuk watched curiously as the children melted away into the recesses of the enclosing leaving a man riding a horse that was pulling a covered carriage. Karuk tried to determine the source of the ringing outside of the carriage and man, but he couldn't discern it from what he saw.

The man on the horse looked tired and was quite old. As he swung his body from the horse it almost seemed that you could hear his bones creak. A long scraggly beard dipped below his waist. He wore a normal commoner's garb, but his robe was accented with dull purples and yellows that struck Karuk as an odd assortment for the normal brown splash behind them. The old man walked behind the carriage and appeared to have a brief conversation, although it appeared very one-sided more like a briefing. Eventually three boys and a girl emerged from the wagon. They stared around in confusion, but they fit right in with the rest of the children's rags and browns. Karuk's observant gaze turned to Riven briefly, but in that moment her eyes met his.

Apparently noticing his curiosity she said, "They bring new kids in that carriage." Karuk continued to observe the new kids. Two of the children looked surprisingly similar, but one was much older than the other. The other children the boy and girl were standing on either side of the pair and both appeared quite a bit more nervous.

"Is that what happened to me?" Karuk murmured. Riven glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. A slight smirk on her lips.

"If you recall, you are hurt pretty bad. No, they just rolled you out onto the floor." Karuk didn't respond and continued to watch. The odd man who had been riding the horse clawed up onto its back and watched the mob with contempt. Finally, the man snapped the reins on the horse and pulled around the courtyard to a long wall at the far side of the space. To Karuk's astonishment the wall opened with a soft squeal of metal on metal. The carriage began moving through the exit before the gate had fully spread apart and by the time the gates had stopped moving the wagon was out of sight. Karuk stared past the gates and studied the surrounding area. It was a slum like his village, but to his surprise there were far more buildings and people than he had ever thought could possibly live in one place.

"Where? Where am I?" Karuk asked in slight awe his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked at Riven expecting an answer, but noticed her staring intently out the gate. He followed her eyes and noticed a mass of troops marching down the street. Nothing special to him, soldiers were disgusting demons and he had an inner urge to stay away from them.

"Riven." Karuk poked her. She seemed to snap out of a trance and looked at Karuk, a slightly irritated expression. Then she seemed to take a deep breath and put herself together.

With a slight sigh she said, "What Karuk?" Riven never even looked at him. Focused intently on the soldiers with devoutness she followed them with her eyes. Even from here Karuk could barely make out their synchronized stomping that echoed quietly, but powerfully to them.

"Where are we? Where am I?" Karuk said impatiently. Riven stared at him incredulously. Karuk began to feel uncomfortable as Riven's face continued in a contorted twist of features. Suddenly she burst out laughing.

Karuk began to speak, but was cut off when Riven began, "You really have no idea where you are do you? We are in the capital of Noxus! The grandest city in all of Valoran with the strongest empire and army ever seen!" She half giggled and half exclaimed her description of Noxus as Karuk now donned an incredulous face.

"Doesn't seem so great." Karuk mumbled. Riven stared at him briefly in disbelief, but seemed to not feel like arguing her point, so Karuk turned away from her and examined the city. His view was quite small, but to him it looked like a haven. A place for opportunity. The only problem was that he had no idea how to get there or even if he was allowed to. His first glimpses of the city of Noxus was closed with a long drawn out squeal of metal and a loud thump. Once the gate was closed hell seemed to break out amongst the courtyard. The four newcomers were surrounded by the angry mob that had only recently been targeting him before he had slipped out and left them to fight.

From where Karuk was he could only make out the two similarly looking boys. The oldest one was up and fighting and the smaller one seemed to be well behind his mimic. To Karuk's surprise the large boy was putting up quite a fight. His strategy also seemed implausible, yet it too was effective.

The large boy took hit after hit, but for each blow he received he slammed another child away with a vicious and calculating fist. "Do they always do this?" Karuk asked Riven after several minutes of watching the newcomers being hazed.

"Yeah, it is how they tell who is strong and who is weak." Riven said wistfully as if remembering her own first day. Most of the kids had erupted into fighting again and yet to Karuk's surprise no one even bothered confronting him or Riven. Briefly he wondered why Riven wasn't fighting herself like all the others, but then again, he wasn't fighting either. Karuk began to stand and walk towards the building he had originally found himself in when he heard a loud roar go through the mob. The excitement seemed to radiate from the very center of the brawl.

Out of curiosity he headed into the fray. To his surprise he was completely capable of walking through the fight unscathed and was often able to down those in his way with quick blows and well-aimed kicks. As he approached the middle of the fray he found himself on the circumference of a ring of onlookers. To his horror in the center of the circle lying side by side were the two newcomers he had lost sight of.

They were covered in scratches. Their fingers were all broken and bent at odd angles more often than not with the bone poking out of their skin. The girl had a broken arm with blood pooling out of it as she lied in the dirt. Most disgustingly their eyes were disfigured gruesomely. Karuk departed in horror. His stomach urged him to vomit, but there was nothing to spit up.

At the edge of the fray and the courtyard Karuk collapsed in a heap. They were both dead. Both those children had been murdered. They had been killed by his peers with their bare hands. Disgust hurtled through his mind. One thought resonated with him and grew stronger and stronger the more the sounds of the kids around him grew: He must escape.

**/AN: Alright, so, bring out your torches for Riven's hair color. But, do not fear there is a method to my madness no matter how thoughtless I may seem. I would also like to apologize for the pause in uploads, but, school is more important to me and right now it is hurting me lol :( .**

**I hope you enjoyed this relatively boring chapter, but I felt like it was important to explain my new and improved lore in the vacuum of summoners not existing and the like. **


	3. The End of an Era

**Chapter 2: The End of an Era**

He was intimidating now, at least, in respect to the ilk around him. Over the past several years or so Karuk had matured faster than ever imaginable and his body wasn't far behind his mind. Of course, he was still a mere boy, but now his muscles were developing and within his dreary enclosure he or perhaps Darius were the closest things to men the compound had ever seen. Darius was the elder boy that he had seen on that first day battling hordes of children and the child had been nearly a teen at that point. In fact, Darius had stayed within the "orphanage" for barely a month before he was dragged into a military carriage and carted to gods know where.

Riven had tried to explain to him, when he'd asked, where they had dragged Darius to, but he couldn't stand watching her talk of the military, so highly, so reverently. From what he could make sense of Darius had been sponsored or chosen to go to a prestigious military academy. Karuk recalled Riven's glowing eyes and admiration as she said military academy and frowned inwardly. The event had only strengthened his goal to escape, but over the years he had grown almost content within the protective and familiar clearing. Most people respected him, feared him, or a bit of both; and he liked it that way. However, he knew his days were numbered. Everyone was dragged out of the compound and whisked away to the Noxian army as soon as they decided able by the Overseers. It seemed to be a kind of a deal: The Overseers watched and kept a majority of us alive and somewhat healthy and then sold us quietly behind the scenes to the military, and as far as he could tell most of them weren't going anywhere like Darius. In fact Darius seemed to be a very rare case and most paperwork he could find pointed to large camps for training grunts. Most of them were going right to the slaughter and no one would give a damn either way and he knew that he and Riven probably won't be as lucky as Darius.

He didn't give a damn about most others either. All that Karuk cared about was not being caught in the same storm and trying to keep Riven out too. He was failing. All Riven wanted to do was follow Darius into the military and she watched guards through the open gates with wide admiring eyes and it saddened him as he saw his future visions with Riven crumbling. From where he lay, he could see her now. Her dark red hair was tied back sloppily into a ponytail leaving several strands to create a halo around her face and she was in the middle of doing her own workout. The one he had helped her perfect and design. To be fair they had collaborated to design a workout to the best of their understanding and in fact he was in the middle of his own primitive workout routine. Primitive because he hadn't observed an actual workout and had invented basic positions that made his muscles ache. It seemed to work and overtime it was even more apparent when his muscles grew stronger and perhaps if he had a normal meal schedule he would truly bulk up. Regardless of his meal per day he was quite strong with deceivingly thin. While he originally thought one meal a day was too little, he had been able to eat rather well with a bit of thievery and it supplemented his noon meal sufficiently on most days. Whoever he had been in his past life, the life he didn't remember, hadn't eaten well either and eating one meal a day never seemed to trouble him like it did Darius and his obnoxious brother Draven. Draven was the younger boy he had seen cowering behind Darius the day they arrived and he irritated Karuk to know end. The boy certainly wouldn't have survived if it hadn't been for Darius and just as importantly Karuk's respect for Darius. Darius had commanded respect and Karuk could tell he was a natural leader. Before Darius had left all those years ago he had requested that Karuk take

Riven interrupted his thoughts, and workout, with a melting smile that did its damnedest to break his cold facade. "Karuk, I think it is today!" She was still panting from her workout and her chest rose and fell with each breath she took between words. Karuk let out an audible sigh. "Don't look so down! How can you be upset about joining the most powerful, glorious military imaginable?" Her enthusiasm was almost masked by her need to breathe.

Karuk seemed to look at Riven with a bemused expression, "You sound like a recruiter." He watched her expression and to his dismay she seemed not to notice or care about his comment. Every day for the past week he and Riven had had a nearly planned conversation always beginning with Riven believe that today was the day, but today was slightly different because today really was the day the wagon would come for them.

Riven continued without changing her expression from her bright smile, "Karuk, I think I am going to the same place as Darius! One of the fancy people in suits came and talked to me and I think they are from the academy!" Karuk rolled his eyes. The man had entered from the actual entrance of the warehouse for going the normal commotion created by the gate. Karuk couldn't recall if Darius had been visited, but back then he was a lot less observant.

Karuk looked away and grumbled, "Darius was here for three weeks and in that time somehow managed to increase your fanaticism for our beloved military." Karuk breathed between each word slightly fatigued physically from his own workout, but managed a ever so slight smirk. He already knew that his recruitment was today and he was ready. Ready to escape into the intoxicating allure of the enormous and mysterious city. "So, how do you know they are from the academy Riven?" She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously at the tone of his voice.

"It sounds like you know, but I will humor you," she somewhat glowered. Her excitement one out as her smile returned, "The man I spoke to had a big fancy suit came and the Overseer there was really intimidated and I have never seen any of them seem so scared." Riven paused and when she noticed Karuk seemed to expert her to continue began again, "Well, I also snuck into the overseers office and found a schedule for the army visits and today is the next time and we are super old!" She said excitedly with overwhelming pride, fear, and shame flowing off her. Her head was in a mix between cocked up in excitement and held down looking at the floor. She ended up with a level head and bright eyes and a blush of embarrassment. Karuk stared at her for a minute.

Karuk smirked again and replied, "I thought you would say, 'I just feel it!' like you have the last couple days." Riven opened her mouth to respond, but Karuk interrupted, "By the way, that paper was on his desk for days now." He felt Riven deflate at the pride and laughter in his voice and couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face at his own pride and victory over her.

Riven didn't stay deflated for long and quickly her depressed attitude was replaced with anger and outrage. "Why didn't you tell me?" Riven bellowed at him and took an aggressive step towards him her hair falling in front of her flashing eyes. Karuk was distracted from her distracting face by the distant tolling of the wagon that no doubt would remove him from his kingdom and take him to hell. The sound that meant now was the time to put his plan into action. Riven blew the hair out of her face and then slapped him across the face waking him from his thought. "Karuk, what the hell?" The hurt in her crimson eyes bothered him to know end, but this was about his survival and not their friendship. The just had different ideas about the future and their place in it.

"Bye, Riven," his voice failed him and even he could hear the pain and conflict within it. Karuk spun on his heel before Riven could respond and ran into the stagnant mob of fellow children spiraling slowly and aimlessly about the courtyard. In the background he believed he heard Riven calling his name, but he refused to look back. This was his decision and he already knew hers. There was no point trying to talk it out with her. He knew what she thought. The gates slowly began to open, their hinges squeaking faithfully. Karuk paid no mind to their incessant tune and instead pushed deeper into the mob. Eventually when he was deep enough into the center of the courtyard he paused. There. He heard it. The ringing sound of the wagons sorcery. Quickly he hit the nearest kid in square in the chest sending them reeling backwards. And as if that wasn't enough to start a fight he yelled, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" All the while dashing from child to child slapping, punching, kicking, elbowing leaving angry red marks on their exposed skin. Chaos soon converted the courtyard into a battlefield and even as the carriage entered kids found themselves under its wheels and still they fought.

One last final touch was needed. He sprinted to the far edge of the courtyard opposite of the gates and nearest the big building. The old warehouse looked as feeble as he always saw it. He was about to do Noxus a favor. He found his fire making kit and went to work. Within minutes, just as the courtyard was quieting and coming to order the blaze caught and within seconds chaos retook its hold on the crowd. What little order the bell brought fell to pieces as the fire roared to life engulfing the warehouse and terrifying the mob in the courtyard. Children and Overseers poured out of the warehouse itself coughing and cursing the world all the while. No one looked his way, except one person. Riven was storming his way. Karuk felt little guilt as he looked at the burning building and the crowd surrounding him. None of them were his friends with exception of perhaps Riven and she was just leaving the place anyway and if the paperwork he had seen was accurate she would be right behind Darius headed to a prestigious school due to an unknown backer. He on the other hand was not so fortunate and he refused to serve Noxus let alone as a meager cannon fodder.

"Karuk!" Riven screamed at him now sprinting towards him. His eyes widened in surprise as Riven approached. He looked past her and saw that there were still plenty of people storming out of the courtyard and he couldn't see the wagon anymore. Perhaps his future with Riven wasn't quite unbelievable. He was suddenly tackled off his feet and felt himself lift off the ground and for a glorious second he was weightless with the arms of the only person he would let tackle him wrapped around him. And then he plummeted into the ground, his head slamming into the dirt making him see stars. "Karuk! How could you do this?" Riven cried at him. Her voice barely more than a whisper as she held his shoulders against the dirt. One of his arms was caught behind his back and the other was uselessly crushed under one of Riven's knees. "Karuk… Why did you do this?" She sobbed. Tears ran down her face and her read hair outlined her face and matched her eyes. Behind her the sun was blotted out by dark smoke clouds that made her expression all the more heart breaking. She grabbed his shirt and lifted his chest off the ground and slammed him back down. "Karuk!"

"Riven… I…" Karuk couldn't form words. The back of his head ached and the increasing amount of smoke and heat from the building added to his lack of cognisance. "Riven, please, I don't share your dream! The military is a nightmare to me…"

"Why Karuk..?" Riven shook her head slowly in confusion. Tears continued to roll down her face and fall from her cheeks on to the dirt around them. "Why do you hate Noxus? ...Why do you... hate me?"

Karuk couldn't swallow properly his voice was caught in his throat and he was nearly paralysed with regret and his own confusion. "I… They… The soldiers! ...I don't know! It is something about them. They make me feel angry. The very sight of them brings twinges of disgust and hate." Karuk took a deep breath and looked at Riven. He could feel his eyes water and the feeling was so foreign to him he wanted to feel his eyes himself to make sure they were his own. On Riven's face he could see her tears and the conflict in her eyes. "Riven… I don't hate you… I… I can't bear the thought of being without you! I… Riven." He paused to breathe in and saw her look into his eyes at his words. "Riven… I… Don't go with them Riven! You… we… we can run now Riven! Don't you see? I have freed us! We are free Riven!" He looked at her face looking for understanding and compassion. When none came he continued almost desperately ignoring the pain in his shoulders and back, "Riven… Come with me. We can live our own lives in the city!" Karuk watched her carefully in apprehension. He watched her facial expression twist as she considered his offer and battled herself.

Riven opened and closed her mouth several times before she actually began to speak. "Karuk… I… You… We… Karuk, we aren't meant to be… You and I are different…" She blinked her tears away and a look of determination and a tint of anger behind her eyes. "I love Noxus, Karuk, not you…" she finally, barely whispered. "I never want to see you again, Karuk." Karuk looked into her eyes. She was still pinning him down, but her words immobilized him more than he had ever been and his voice seemed incapable of sputtering the simplest of phrases. "Look around you! Do you see the destruction? Do you see the chaos? Look at what you have done to what I love! Do you see all those people, all those children? Do you see your home behind you in flames? You are killing Noxians! Do you hear their screams, their cries for help? How are you helping Noxus? You are worthless, Karuk! You are a monster!" She screamed at him in a fit of rage. He could feel her saliva hitting his face that was turned to the side to hide from her piercing gaze.

A monster.

Karuk couldn't bring himself to talk. His tears rolled freely down his face and he refused to look at Riven. "Good Bye, Karuk." Riven's voice seemed more pained than he could possibly imagine and he admired her fortitude all the while hating himself. She released her grip on him and he tried to make out her foot steps from the sounds of chaos all around him. When he gave up he raised his head enough to watch her leave. Her clothes were tattered even more than he could remember them and he could glimpse her skin through numerous tears in her pants and shirt. Her red hair was still tied in a loose ponytail that fell between her shoulder blades. She looked stunning.

A monster. That is what she had called him. As she passed out of his line of vision he let his head fall back against the dirt. She had never looked back at him.

He lay on the ground for minutes or hours, he couldn't tell. The fire behind him still roared, but the screaming was over. Everyone was saved… or dead. If Noxus was the way he believed it to be they were long dead and not a single person would cast a second glance. The sky met his mood with an equally dark color and the sun was already setting below the walls of the massive city that had intrigued him since day one. The moon was a mere sliver of its full self and could just barely be seen rising over the burning husk of his old home. It was time to move on; and it was time to survive.

He was a monster. Whenever he heard the word it was always in Riven's pained, but determined voice. He couldn't stop thinking about her and about her words.

When he finally left from the courtyard he looked back through the gates into his prison. He could see bodies. He could see death. He had made his choice. He was a killer. With that last glance he departed and set his sights on the city before him. The warehouse and the courtyard had been pressed up against the outer walls of the city and they were crammed into a district that those with real jobs wouldn't dare set foot in. Most buildings in the district were industrial and abandoned. Most of the structures were crammed together with a narrow alley between. Often times he could see boards lying from building to building and they were normally resting on window sills. Even more frequent were ropes draping from one window to another with rags and clothes. He also noticed they were never easily reached because they would never be lower than the second story of a building. The people around here were impoverished and they were cynical. Karuk was still wandering on the main roads that were decently well lit in the fading light of the sun and still populated by late night shoppers and thieves.

The vendors on the street were wrapping up business for the evening and as soon as a customer would leave they would pick up their wares and cart them back towards the center of the city. Karuk looked at as many carts as he could and noticed that the most common type of merchandise was food followed by blades and other weapons.

One particular vendor was selling weapons to several individual and Karuk stood nearby watching. He really could use a weapon here. It would make him feel more at ease. He began to maneuver around behind the customers and then he spotted an interesting weapon; it looked like a long blade attached to a sort of gauntlet. He spaced out and casually reached to grab it and was shocked out of his trance by an angry shout of outrage from the shop owner. To his surprise several of the customer drew weapons and lunged at him. With wide eyes he jumped away from them and fell into the cart full of weapons. A colossal amount of clattering was heard as the weapons on top the cart were scattered across the ground. He saved himself from a stab and kick by rolling over the cart and sprinting as his feet hit the ground. Behind him he could hear the footsteps of countless pursuers.

His eyes flickered from one alley to another looking for refugee, but all of them appeared to be dark and foreboding. The surrounding buildings appeared equally opposing and he could feel his breathing increase in panic as he began searching more and more desperately for an escape. He felt a blade graze his back and he could feel the blood trickle down to the small of his back. In a burst of speed and panic he ducked into the nearest alley and sprinted down it. Ladders hung from fire escapes and some windows were ground level, but the windows were boarded and most of the ladders were too high up for him to grab quickly. To his surprise the alleyway was quite long and it wasn't straight by any means. He found himself weaving and turning in many directions as the alley navigated the metropolis and, in fact, there were alleyways branching off of the alley he ran down. The place was an unorganized maze.

To his horror he could still hear his pursuer's footsteps and occasional curse as they tripped over rubbish and debris that was scattered thickly across the ground. He found himself to be rather sure footed and very rarely felt the material beneath his feet shift. His breathing was heavy now and he had a hard time hearing much of anything besides the pounding of his heart in his ears and the thud of his feet hitting the cobbled streets.

Suddenly a ladder crashed down from a fire escape directly in front of him and his eyes widened in surprise before he crashed into it and fell on his back. The sky was a deep purple and he could see the darker black plumes of smoke rising quite a distance away from what he presumed was the warehouse. Most of the stars were blotted out by clouds or smoke, but the sliver of the moon broke through the murk and cast its pale light ever so slightly into the city. He returned to his senses and gazed up the ladder and he could just barely see the outline of a hooded figure at the top.

"Get up here you crazy fucking idiot," a gruff voice whispered from above. Karuk had little choice. His legs were beyond exhausted and his lungs were screaming for a break. He could taste iron in the back of his throat and he knew his running had come to its limit. He clung on to the ladder and began to slowly climb up it. To his surprise the ladder began to lift up while he was climbing it. "You are slow as shit! What the fuck do you think you are doing here, kid?" The voice continued from above, but this time it sounded strained. Finally Karuk reached the top and collapsed on to the floor of the fire escape. Beneath him he could see the enraged customers shouting up at him, and to his horror they were throwing rocks and other debris they could lift off the ground. Their shouts of outrage drifted up to him, but luckily none of their poorly aimed projectiles did.

"Don't worry they won't stick around. Once the chase is over they don't like barking up trees. Damn vigilante's think they are good citizens chasing our asses across town." Karuk still hadn't looked at his rescuer. He felt a hand clench his hair and pull his head up. Karuk was forced to look up at his savior and was surprised with what he saw. The man was really still a kid, granted older than Karuk by a couple years, and his age surprised Karuk nonetheless. "Name's Kaevyn. What about you, kid?" The boy, Kaevyn was looking at Karuk expectantly, but his expression soon changed when Karuk let his head drop back onto the hard metal of the fire escape. "Hey! Kid! Wake up! You piece of shit!" Karuk tried to raise his head, but found his eyes closing instead despite his dry throat and heaving chest.

His last glancing thought before unconsciousness was the memory of Riven screaming, tears running down her face and her hair flying around her head.

He was a monster.

**/AN: Hey, everybody. I know too long to maintain an actual fan base, but I really am just writing for the hell of writing. I would really appreciate feed back when it comes down to my action scenes and just drama. Do you feel it? Is it boring? I appreciate all advice, really. So, lay it on me!**


	4. The Lamb and the Sheppard

**Chapter 3: The Lamb and his Sheppard **

"Karuk!" He could hear her voice in pain and fear. "Monster!" It was still her voice, but full of disgust and anger. "Karuk!" Pain. Fear. "Monster!" Disgust. Anger. "Karuk, you are a monster!" It was still her voice. "Karuk, help me!" She was tormenting him. "Please, help me!" It must be a trick. Karuk stared around the dimly lit street wildly in confusion. "Riven? Riven, where are you!" The only response was the accusatory tone of Riven's voice calling him a monster yet again, and then followed by her voice full of fear and despair calling out for his help.

He began sprinting in as many directions as the narrow road would allow, but no matter where he went her voice was the same volume. Suddenly he lost his footing and crashed down onto the cobble street. Flickering flame from a street lamp cast light on to his eyes and as he stared into it he could see Riven's twisted face. All of a sudden the lamp was put out with a gust of wind that even he could feel from his position on the ground. His chest rose heavily with each breath and his eyes widened enough for the full moon overhead to be reflected in his pupil's. His hands dug into the road with inhuman strength and he could feel his fingernails breaking and blood running down his fingertips.

Then there was a guard kneeling over him. "Don't worry kid. I know a nice orphanage I can send you to. They will take great care of you and then you can grow up to be just like me!" As the guard finished his sentence his face twisted and fangs sprouted from his wide grin. "Just like me! Just like me!" The voice echoed as the world shattered around him and eventually fell back to darkness.

In the distance he heard a voice piercing the haze around his mind and he focused as well as he could on the far away sound. "Kid. Hey, Kid." The voice was still soft, but he realized it was a whisper rather than the far away sound he had originally thought it to be. "Kid. Wake the fuck up."

All of the sudden he felt himself tumbling across the ground until he rolled into a wall, slamming his head into some unknown object. His eyes flew open as his head exploded in pain. There was a dull ache in his ribs and his legs still felt like exploding. His throat was completely rubbed raw and his lungs burned with each breath; however, he couldn't taste the iron in his mouth and most of his body was still in good shape.

He felt himself forcefully rolled over and found a face staring back at him. He struggled furiously with himself to recount the past events and covered his memory loss with rapid blinks. The he remembered his dream. He remembered now. "Kaevyn…?"

"Boy, where on earth are you from?" Kaevyn's lips seemed to open before his words reached his ears. "People like you won't last too long out here." His words were harsh, but to the point and something about him Karuk appreciated.

"Water…" Karuk managed to say, not even bothering to move his head. He saw Kaevyn's face contort in some emotion he didn't care to decipher and just stared at the dark sky as Kavyn stormed across-. Karuk had no clue where he was. He was lying on some sort of wooden planked floor with sealant between the boards. Low walls surrounded him on all four sides and the rough shape of the floor plan was a hexagon. Karuk concluded that he must be on some sort of tall tower. Besides the hexagonal shape and obvious height of the structure there was only one other feature of note and it was a trap door that Kaevyn had disappeared into noiselessly.

He dropped his head back against the boards of the floor and sighed. Karuk wasn't nearly as ready as he thought he was when he torched down the warehouse and… and killed all those people. He had made his choice. Kaevyn dumped most of the water right on his face and then placed it next to his head. "That is as close as it gets to me feeding you by the spoon kid."

Karuk missed most of his words because he had already plunged his face as far into the bucket as he could before tilting it back and gulping down the delish murky substance. Water gushed around his face and soaked his already wet clothing, but it was the best feeling in the world. He gasped for breath when the last drop of water left the bucket; He wasn't completely satiated, but it was enough. "Karuk." Karuk gasped. "My name is Karuk."

"What kinda fucking name is Karuk? Man, the name Karuk is a joke. It is a shitty name, kid. Your parents musta fuckin hated you." Kaevyn immediately broke out into laughter. Karuk was stoic; he didn't even know if Karuk was his name. It had just been what the Overseers had called him, what Riven had called him. He didn't have parents.

"I don't even remember my parents. I don't know how I got my name, but it is _my _name now so fuck off." Karuk lashed out with more anger and conviction than he would have thought possible. He watched Kaevyn's expression change from laughter and amusement to a thoughtful and almost dangerous expression. It didn't last long enough to him to fully gather what Kaeyvn thought, but he finally knelt down next to Karuk.

"Hey, calm down, kid-" Kaevyn began only to be interrupted by Karuk.

"Call me Karuk."

"Okay, Karuk," Kaevyn snickered before regaining control, "I owe you one for your shenanigans last night, and I don't want to start off on the wrong foot. I think there is room here for a partnership, after all you don't have a fucking clue what you are doing and I ain't fast enough to run from all the righteous bastards with money." Kaevyn paused and watched Karuk's face for a reaction. "Well, what do you say?" He said after Karuk failed to respond.

Karuk's thoughtful expression deepened until finally he said, "I… Yeah." He didn't truly trust Kaevyn, but he needed a way to figure out how this city works because so far it was a lot different from his relatively easy life in the warehouse. Kaevyn's face lit up at his response and he had a big grin on his face to match his shining eyes.

"Well," Kaevyn began, "I am glad I swiped a couple blades off that cart." Karuk looked kaevyn up and down. He was wearing a tattered cloak that hid his face and fell away in strips down his back failing to cover his front and revealing his cotton vest and pants. The vest was a dark brown, sleeveless and covered with patches and additional pockets sloppily sewed on to the clothing. His pants were the same color, but had leather scraps sewed onto his knees and the sides of his thighs and calfs. His gloves only covered his palms and the base of his fingers allowing the rest of them to stick out. His black boots were in a state of disrepair, but, like his pants and shirt, were patched with leather and other scraps of cloth. Karuk couldn't see anywhere that might have concealed a blade and watched Kaevyn attentively for a clue as to where he would produce these so called blades.

Unsurprisingly Kaevyn retreated back to the trap door and opened it all the way before jumping down the hole not even bothering to use the ladder. After a couple seconds his head popped out and he said, "What the fuck are you waiting around for? You think I am your fucking butler?" Karuk jumped up and immediately regretted it. His legs screamed with pain and his headache returned in force.

"Ugh," He muttered holding a hand to his head. He eventually reached the ladder no failing to notice Kaevyn's insults and vulgarity. When he reached the ladder he was surprised that it was a considerable drop down to the next level. He stared down into the darkness searching for Kaevyn, but he couldn't see him with in the windowless room. He shrugged off his anxiety and climbed down the ladder only to find that the room wrapped around the ladder making a U shape and effectively hiding the corridor.

"Kid, how can you be so cautious _and _stupid?" Karuk heard Kaevyn's voice echo down the corridor and he clenched his fists at the insult. He rebuked himself and tried to calm down because Kaevyn was basically his only hope of learning how to survive in the hostile environment he found himself in.

"My name is Karuk!" He hollered back down the corridor quickening his pace to prevent another outburst. As he walked through the only doorway at the end of the corridor he thought he saw a silver flash across his vision before hearing a loud thud against the wall inches away from his head. He turned to further examine the object and realized it was a long throwing knife. The blade was serrated on one side and its cruel teeth were well oiled while the other side of the blade was honed to a straight and extremely sharp edge. The two sides came together to form a deadly point.

When he reached for it he saw another flash of steel and heard another thud against the wall on the other side of his head. "What the fuck!" He directed at his attacker. To his astonishment he saw Kaevyn standing from a crouch. By his feet was a now empty sack that he could only assume had produced with throwing daggers and Kaevyn's two gleaming weapons.

He turned his attention to thrower and found his eyes locked with Kaevyn. "Kaevyn?" He questioned. He watched Kaevyn and saw him tense. His eyes were deadly serious and locked with his own in a seemingly murderous rage.

To his surprise Kaevyn rushed towards him with a long sinister blade gripped in each hand. One sword crossing his chest and the other raised higher up near his head. "Think fast, kid!" Kaevyn shouted midway through his charge. His eyes hadn't lost their fury.

Karuk's eyes had already widened in shock and now his heart raced to pump adrenaline through his body. His breathing quickened naturally to provide more oxygen and time seemed to slow down around him. Kaevyn was still rushing at him, but his steps seemed sluggish. Karuk spun to the side feeling Kaevyn's sword rush past him before slamming into the door frame at neck level causing a seemingly thunderous sound.

Karuk grabbed at the dagger and fought to free it from the wall. Kaevyn ripped his sword free from where it had been embedded and raised both his swords in preparation for a devastating chop.

Karuk twisted at the dagger still stuck in the wall in desperation, but he was forced to roll away from it as Kaevyn's blow crashed down. Kaevyn elegantly recovered with his follow through slashing with both blades flying over Karuk's head.

Karuk continued his roll to further the distance between him and Kaevyn. When he looked back at Kaevyn he was already rushing back towards him with both blades high over his head preparing a vicious downwards slash.

He rolled back again and found himself pressed against the wall. Kaevyn's blades collided with the floor and were lodged into the oak boards. In desperation Karuk kicked Kaevyn's blades and arms as he tried to free them from the soft wood. Karuk jumped up with surprising agility and elbowed Kaevyn hard in the side of the head sending him sprawling to the ground.

As Kaevyn fell to the ground Karuk jumped over his form. Before he had even landed Kaevyn was kicking throwing him out of his jump and sending him plummeting to the ground. Karuk landed awkwardly and found himself sprawled on his stomach near the door way.

Kaevyn was scrambling up and rushing towards him. Karuk rolled over onto his back and tried to kick Kaevyn, but Kaevyn grabbed onto his legs and pushed Karuk over forcing him to cartwheel and landing Kaevyn awkwardly in the doorway.

Karuk's head was spinning from all the different angles he had been flung around, but he saw Kaevyn's blades lying nearby with in arm reach and began to crawl towards the nearest of the two. He reached out for the blade. His hand collapsed around the solid metal handle.

Then there was a wait on his back forcing him down. He struggled with the sword trying to pull it back around, but he couldn't. A boot came down on his arm that was holding on to the sword and he lost his grip in the pain coursing through his arm. Then he was on his back staring up at Kaevyn. He had a huge smile on his face and his eyes appeared crazy. Karuk could smell his rancid breath and he could almost hear Kaevyn's breathing over his own heartbeat. Kaevyn was holding both of the throwing daggers and had one against his neck and the other was at his abdomen.

Karuk was on his back with the blades digging into his skin for what seemed like ages before Kaevyn finally spoke. "You are one deceptive piece of shit." With that Kaevyn got off him and went to retrieve his swords. Karuk was still lying on the ground panting when Kaevyn turned back to him. "What is the matter?" He said with a slight smile and a heavy dose of amusement in his voice.

"What is the matter? Are you fucking serious?" Karuk panted. Kaevyn only smiled and walked back to the back that was still lying on the ground where he had left it. Now that he had time to properly observe the room he realized that there was an actual window on one side and even though it was boarded up the early morning light still drifted in making adding to a small candle lamp chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Underneath of the window was a mass of blankets and sheets that he assumed Kaevyn used to sleep on.

Kaevyn watched him take in the room before saying, "It isn't much, but it is what I got and it has kept me alive this long." Karuk looked back at him with a bit of venom in his stare and Kaevyn hastily continued, "Hey, look, Karuk, you can't be mad at me. I needed to make sure I wasn't wasting my time. I was never going to actually hurt you… much." He smiled before drawing the two throwing knives from the folds of his clothes. He flipped them around so that he held them by the blades and then held them out for Karuk to take them from him. Karuk still hadn't said anything and now he stood looking at his reflection in the blade. He looked a lot different in a blade than he did in a muddy puddle.

His face was still disgustingly boyish and his arms weren't nearly as muscular as he thought they were. His eyes were a dark brown and no matter what face he made he always seemed to have an intense stare that even he felt was amusing combined with his features. Compared to Kaevyn he was certainly a boy.

Kaevyn watched him from a distance with an amused expression as Karuk turned the blade over making different faces and maneuvering it to see his arms and body. He finally stopped when Kaevyn's smirk broke into laughter. "Want to go to a damn beauty pageant?" Karuk looked up from the knife and his piercing gaze made Kaevyn feel uncertain.

Before he could apologize Karuk said, "Hell no! I just have never seen my reflection so clearly and I guess I was surprised." A puzzled expression slowly spread across his face. "I have no idea where to put these blades…" He trailed off questioningly. A smile spread across Kaevyn's face and he pulled up his cloak a bit revealing a crude belt with loops patched on sloppily.

"I have another belt you can use I guess. We also need to do something about where the hell you are going to sleep because I wasn't really planning on adding any members to club Kaevyn." He finished with a smirk before moving back to the back lying in the corner. After a bit of rummaging he finally retrieved a similar looking belt from the pack and turned back to Karuk. "It should fit, but if it doesn't you should probably make it."

Kaevyn tossed the belt to Karuk and then Karuk began fumbling with finding a way to wrap around his pants, but in the end looked helplessly at Kaevyn and said, "Uh… I think this belt was meant for actual clothes..." Kaevyn sighed in exasperation before quickly examining that indeed Karuk's clothes were completely worthless.

"Good gods where the hell did you come from. You don't have proper clothes, the only damn reflection you have seen is in a fucking knife, and you are about as skinny as a gods damned slave." Kaevyn ranted. "Hell, I am going to have to steal a gods damned fucking fortune just to get you healthy." He paced around the room deep in thought and Karuk couldn't do much, but wait around. He sat in a corner and fiddled with the knives Kaevyn had given him. "You should practice with them, kid. They are meant for throwing." Karuk looked back at Kaevyn somewhat startled. "Just throw 'em at the wall, alright? And, if you are going to hurt someone please try not to hurt me. I don't give a fuck if you cut your damn head off."

Karuk stared around the room looking for a spot to throw the daggers, but was interrupted from his search when Kaevyn ripped them from his grasp apparently caring very little for the sharp edges centimeters from his hand. "For fuck sake, just throw them!" He emphasized his point by launching the first knife across the room sending it plunging into the opposite wall. He quickly followed it up with the second knife, planting it just below the first knife. Karuk was still sitting on the floor and stared dumbstruck at Kaevyn and then the wall. "What are you fucking waiting for? Are you waiting for me to get the damn knives for you?" Kaevyn raged at him. Karuk jumped up from his position on the floor and raced to the knives embedded in the wall. When he got to them he struggled to rip them from the wall and when he finally removed the first knife he fell back and nearly rolled on to back.

Kaevyn watched him from a far somewhat smoldering in anger and somewhat regretting his decision to help this fool of a child. As Karuk removed the last dagger plummeting backwards and landing on his ass Kaevyn said, "Alright Karuk here is the plan. You are going to sit tight here while I go and procure you some proper equipment, and I swear to God if you aren't here when I come back I will hunt you down and murder you. In fact, Karuk, I expect you to be sitting here throwing knives and I expect nothing else to be even moved in the slightest." Kaevyn was deadly serious and Karuk was beginning to realize the necessity of making Kaevyn see him as a useful human being or he would be in serious trouble.

"I will do just that Kaevyn. Thank you for all the help you are giving me. I know this is a pain in the ass for you, but I _will_ make it up to you." Karuk said with conviction and Kaevyn simply smiled before beginning to leave through the hallway from which they came.

Karuk heard his voice echo down the corridor, "I expect nothing else kid." As Kaevyn left the hallway and climbed up the ladder he heard the sound of a hilt slamming into a wall. A smile spread across his face as he remembered learning how to throw a dagger for the first time. It was a simple thing to do necessarily and it often appeared much easier than it actually was.

Karuk stared in frustration at his daggers. Neither of them was plunged into the wall. They both were lying about two feet apart and both of them had collided with the wall hilt first and simply bounced off the wall and clattered to the ground. He tried to remember how Kaevyn did it. Kaevyn was just so quick he seemed to just flick his wrist and the knife would fly from his fingers and collide into the wall like clock work. He went and picked up the knives and returned to his position on the floor. He gripped his first dagger by the hilt and angled the blade back towards him before propelling it forward. The blade crashed into the wall, but the angle was bad, just nicking the wood. With second blade he repeated the motion, but changed the timing of release and tried to apply more force. The blade sank into the wall.

A slight smile graced his face and he retrieved his knives. Soon the room rang with the sound of his practice. Two solid thuds would ring out and there would be a pause of thirty or so seconds, and then two more thuds. The pattern repeated and only occasionally would there be the sound of a dagger clattering to the ground followed by a groan and sound of disapproval.

**/AN: Hey, Folks. I am trying to put a bit more effort into this story and pretty much everything else. I hope to update quite more frequently, but we will see how long it lasts. Anyways, I always appreciate reviews and I really think everyone underestimates how much it means to have someone put in the effort to do that. I would like to sincerely thank everyone that reviews, follows, or even reads it. It makes my day. **

**Peace.**


	5. Red Among Brown

**Chapter 4: Red Among Brown**

The echoing thuds that could be heard almost covered Kaevyn's return, but Karuk heard, so he didn't go to retrieve his knives, and instead he turned to face the hallway behind him. He saw several items land beneath the ladder, thumping softly, before Kaevyn himself finally dropped down and began scooping the bundles up. Karuk remained silent, watching Kaevyn, and when he practically skipped down the hallway with a wide grin on his face, Karuk's curiosity grew exponentially.

"Kid, Karuk, whatever the fuck your name is, I have some great fucking news!" Kaevyn began excitedly. "You see, just outside the city there is going to be a big carnival! They don't come to the capital often, but they spend lots of time around vassal cities. The important part, however, is that they should have all sorts of things to steal, and I would bet they are more valuable than everything I-we own." He quickly corrected smiling slightly at Karuk.

Meanwhile Karuk looked at Kaevyn skeptically before finally asking, "Have you seen one of these Carnivals?" Karuk watched Kaevyn's reaction preferring it to his real answer. The boy glared before he opened his mouth to speak and Karuk assumed the worst, but was slightly corrected.

"Well, I haven't seen the Carnival since I was a young boy with my Ma before… before things changed... and it was amazing. They had all sorts of animals and spell casters creating the most amazing miracles. There were thousands of people milling from stand to stand and they were all the wealthy just parading outside the city! Think of the riches!" After Kaevyn's initial stutter his excitement had returned full force and Karuk couldn't help but wonder how Kaevyn had ended up in the gutter with him. Kaevyn seemed quite invested in returning to this festival and Karuk doubted the validity of what Kaevyn remembered. After all, none of his memories stretched so far back to his mother or father and he thought it strange that Kaevyn would be any different. "Oh, yeah I got you some shit too," Kaevyn mentioned, eyes glazed in some sort of fantasy. Karuk looked expectantly at Kaevyn, but to his annoyance the boy was staring at the wall in a trance.

Karuk nearly reached for the bags in Kaevyn's hand in impatience, but luckily Kaevyn eventually dropped them on the ground and began digging through them himself. "Alright, so, I swiped some clothes from some poor bloke, I got a lot more food, and get this; The pants have actual belt loops!" Kaevyn finished a little aggressively, but somewhat humorously. Karuk narrowed his eyes at Kaevyn before examining the clothes as Kaevyn produced them from a bag. The shirt had a big tear down the one side and had a large patch covering a portion of the mid-section, but compared to the tatters he wore now it might as well have been worthy of royalty. The pants were in much better shape and he could hardly believe that Kaevyn had managed to find them. They were nearly black with dark leather knee pads and they already had proper belt loops that looked more than sturdy enough to hold the weight of a few knives. The last piece was a cloak with a hood to cover most of his face. Unlike Kaevyn's cloak, his cloak was not cut into different sections and remained as it was made. The last item in the bag -that he knew of- were a pair of boots in roughly the same condition as the shirt, but at least they had rubber soles and laces.

"So, how good is your aim?" Kaevyn smirked noticing the daggers in the wall. In answer Karuk went to the wall and retrieved his blades before returning to his usual throwing spot. He focused on his target mentally before winding up his arm. He could feel energy pulsing through him, similar to adrenaline, and released the blade. It flew straighter than he could possibly imagine and struck the exact spot he had aimed for, but to prove his skill to Kaevyn he would need to show precision. He held the second knife up and focused again. The strange energy coursed through him, and he released the blade watching it sail directly underneath the first blade as Kaevyn had demonstrated earlier.

"Damn. Kid- Karuk, you might be the best student in the whole damn city of Noxus." Karuk let a smirk fall on his lips. He had begun to feel the strange energy when he had been just beginning to throw his knives, and since he had found the ability every single throw was as accurate as the last. "Alright, as eager as you must be to throw those at someone, when we go to peruse the carnival tomorrow we don't want to hurt anybody." Kaevyn went to lie down on his pile of rags and cloth. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow we go to the carnival." Kaevyn basically ordered. _Tomorrow?_ Karuk thought. When Karuk looked out the window he saw the sun sinking and simultaneously began to feel the soreness in his arms. Strangely he felt more mentally exhausted than anything.

"Where do I sleep?" Karuk said suddenly blinking from his trance staring out the window. At first Kaevyn appeared irritated, but then, an almost cruel smile gripped his face. He rose slowly from where he was sitting, ominously. Karuk's eyes narrowed until Kaevyn walked into a corner and squatted down. Kaevyn patted the ground with a bit of a chuckle.

"Right over here, boy," He chuckled cooing like Karuk was some kind of dog. Karuk simply walked over and sat down. Kaevyn returned to his bedding a smile still on his face. He stared back at Karuk who returned the piercing gaze with one of his own. Finally, Karuk grumbled several colorful words beneath his breath. "What was that?" Kaevyn asked his smile growing with Karuk's outrage.

"Nothing just a simple compliment to my host," Karuk returned sarcastically before lying down on the ground. He felt right at home sleeping on nothing, but the wood floor. Mainly because it was the same at the warehouse except instead of wood there were cheap tiles and dirt. Karuk watched Kaevyn from his position on the floor and couldn't help, but dislike him. Sure, he had gone out of his way to get him supplies, but something about him seemed insincere and manipulative. Now, Kaevyn stood by the boarded window peering through a crack staring into the darkening night and a thoughtful expression was plastered on his face.

He slept fitfully, startling from the same nightmare. It was always Riven, and he was always the monster.

When the sun was just a faint shadow on the horizon Karuk resigned himself from another futile attempt at sleep and watched the stars slowly evaporate from the sky in the brightness of the sun. From his view by the window Karuk could see over rows and rows of houses and was finally blocked by the structures of the market place; this building was in an excellent location. He couldn't help but wonder why he and Kaevyn were allowed to have it. It didn't make sense to him; they were not strong, and this building would be desired by almost anyone. He hadn't even seen the other floors of it, but the roof and this chamber he found himself in were quite large to be the tip of an iceberg. He turned away from the window and twirled his knives in his hands. He wasn't prone to mistakes and his unfamiliarity with the blade soon cost him several scratches, but Karuk kept up the habit out of boredom. Kaevyn was still sleeping in a bundle of rags that, at the moment, seemed the most enticing, kingly of places to sleep. Even as the sun's first rays shot through the window the boy slept.

Kaevyn awoke when the sunlight had arched well over the marketplace and through the windowsill, shining into his eyes. Karuk watched amusedly as Kaevyn's face scrunched in subconscious annoyance before his whole body tried to roll against the wall he had placed himself against. The result was Kaevyn's face awkwardly being crushed into his bed and his back twisting almost unnaturally. Finally, he groaned rather loudly, startling Karuk.

"The carnival…" Kaevyn muttered sleepily. "The carnival!" His voice had changed completely; the sleep had left his voice and excitement drenched his words like a child's words would. "Karuk! Why didn't you wake me?" Kaevyn continued his rant, "What the hell, Karuk? You want me to think you more worthless than you already are? Want me to realize you are a piece of shit?" Kaevyn's tirade came to a close leaving him panting and a crazed look in his eyes. Karuk looked at him flabbergasted. His eyes still dulled with sleep and shadowed himself, but now they flashed in anger.

He didn't remember being told to wake him. Hell, he barely remembered being told when to wake up in the first damn place, himself. He decided to voice his thoughts, "What are you talking about? I didn't even know when the fuck _I_ should wake up! You better be kidding, man." Karuk's face was reddened and his nostrils flared. Even his hands curled into fists at his sides ready for a fight.

"No, no." Kaevyn's held up his hands passively. "Calm down. I just thought you would want to go to the carnival too, is all." Kaevyn said in a soothing, tranquil even. Karuk studied Kaevyn's face with narrowed eyes and saw nothing, but sincerity if not a slight glint. Kaevyn began hurriedly gathering his equipment while Karuk watched. His knives were already on his belt around his waist. He was ready to go.

Without even glancing towards Karuk, Kaevyn dashed down the hallway still securing his belt. When Kaevyn began climbing the ladder Karuk finally realized that they were leaving right then and with a slight smirk chased after Kaevyn. When he was at the base of the ladder he heard Kaevyn holler, "What are you doing Karuk? Let's go!"

When Karuk saw the carnival the first thing that came to mind was chaos. The festival was positioned directly in front of the gates into Noxus and the guards futilely tried to collect the entrance fee into the city. People largely came and went completely forgoing the tariff and often brushing aside the burly soldiers eager to continue their business. The carnival itself was amazing even from his view behind the gates and a massive bustling crowd. It was as if a small city had moved in front of the capital. Except, this city was full of excitement, screams, and open shops sporting various exotic wares. Men and Women juggled and danced along dirt roads lined with quickly set up stands each one surrounded by Noxian commoners and nobles alike. "This is just the beginning, Karuk. This is just the tip of the iceberg." Kaevyn said turning his head back to lock eyes with Karuk before pressing forward. Karuk found his eyes narrowed suspiciously more often then opened regularly in his time around Kaevyn.

The carnival lost no luster once Karuk was actually within it. Delicious smells drifted through the air and he was unable to even begin to imagine what could possibly produce such sweet smells. The many different stands around him sold all kinds of goods from clothing to gems to weaponry and armor. As they walked through the crowd Kaevyn pick pocketed carnival goers and Karuk watched him carefully. Kaevyn was an expert. He very rarely even bothered with those simply walking down the dirt roads. He targeted people that were talking in groups or distracted by browsing shops from the streets and so far he had flawlessly swiped more gold coins than Karuk had ever seen in one place before.

"Kaevyn, what are we doing here?" Karuk finally asked when the sun was high in the sky and all they had to show for the day was Kaevyn's pockets of coins. Kaevyn seemed to aimless wander down the roads and as much as Karuk liked the idea of gold it was meaningless to him. What good was a coin if they were thieves? And, besides, it wasn't like he was learning how to execute a proper pick pocket. Patiently, Karuk waited for a response.

"I am looking for the fortune teller. The one that told me… uh… just shut up and follow me, kid." Kaevyn's face had flashed through more emotions than Karuk believed possible, but when he had finished his statement his expression had solidified and normalized. All Karuk could do was narrow his eyes suspiciously, yet again, and follow his crazy mentor through the carnival wondering how right in the head the boy was. Around them, Karuk noticed a new type of stall becoming more and more frequent. They had lines of people in front of them and as far as he could tell they sold nothing at all. Out of curiosity he approached one. What was the reason for so much attention if they provided nothing?

He stopped in his tracks. There was a girl waiting in the line. She had red hair and he was immediately reminded of Riven. She was even about the same age as her as far as he could tell. He glanced around to find Kaevyn. He could just barely see him through the mob across the street beginning to swipe several coin purses from unsuspecting consumers. When he turned back to the girl she was looking back at him. At least he thought she was at first, but then it was clear she was looking past him. With a good view of her face and clothes it was clear she wasn't Riven and he could feel the disappointment and relief battling through his mind. Her skin was too pale to be Riven, her hair slightly too bright, her lips too full, her clothes too clean. Her eyes were green instead of the red Riven boasted, but still piercing and somehow strong. She was pristine and dignified like a noble's daughter yet dressed in the clothes of a mere commoner.

The girl seemed weary as if watching for someone, but Karuk couldn't imagine why. She constantly looked over her shoulder and peered around her. She tapped her feet anxiously and from his position behind her he could imagine her hands clamped together thumbs furiously cycling around one another. As entranced as he was in the girl he managed to rip his gaze away and to focus on his original curiosity. The stall was some sort of game. Mostly children his age - early teens - stood in the line and when they finally got to the front they were given several sharpened wooden pegs somewhat shaped like knives. They were tossing the darts at straw dummies painted blue and gold with the exception of two red bulls' eyes on the head and chest of the dummies.

He watched the first child step to the front. They were quite young and barely old enough to be left alone and launch pegs at the dummies, but the stall tender didn't take a second glance. They procured the blades after the child produced two gold coins. The boy's form was imperfect and his aim reflected that. His first throw didn't even hit the target a mere ten feet in front of him. Undeterred the child through his next peg and it fell short slamming into the muddy ground beneath the dummy. Enraged or embarrassed, Karuk couldn't tell which, the boy hurled the wooden dagger and the peg was flung into the air sailing clear over the targets head and punching through the cloth backdrop of the stall.

The shopkeeper seemed not to notice and from where Karuk was standing he could just manage to make out several more holes punched through the cloth back drop. The stall tender simply retrieved more wooden pegs from beneath the counter and the next person stepped into the line. "What the fuck are you staring at Karuk? It better be more coin than you could imagine," Kaevyn's irritated voice whispered from slightly behind him.

Karuk said nothing. When Kaevyn walked past Karuk to get a better view himself, he snickered and finally managed to say, "A game booth? Why the hell would you want to watch these morons throw knives?" Karuk was watching the red haired girl. She had finally made it to the front of the line and she had just purchased her pegs.

"What do you get?" Karuk asked slowly still focused on the girl. Kaevyn was busy about to swipe another coin and so Karuk waited patiently for him to finish. When he returned Karuk asked again, "What do you get when you win?"

Kaevyn looked at him confused before a brief expression of understanding hit him. "You are still talking about that fucking stand? How about you help me get enough coin to visit the damn fortune teller?" Karuk looked at him confused before his face reddened.

"Why on earth are you obsessed with this damn fortune teller? Why the fuck should I help you go and see them?" Despite his anger Karuk managed to keep his voice low and somewhat hid the outrage in his voice. Kaevyn feigned a hurt expression before walking away from the stand and Karuk.

Over his shoulder he called back, "Because you owe me." Karuk looked back to the stand to see the red haired girl throw her last wooden dagger. Her form looked practiced and efficient. She lined up her shot and when she was satisfied she released the peg. The blade sank into the straw target barely missing the bulls eye on the dummies chest and making many in the crowd applaud. Her other daggers weren't quite as well aimed; one in the stomach and the other in the upper thigh. While the crowd was impressed the girl clearly wasn't and she stormed to the back of the line causing Karuk to smile slightly.

Kaevyn was off in the distance and moving at a rapid pace. He had given up on pickpocketing and seemed to have finally found somewhere to go with a purpose. With a last glance at the strange Riven esk girl Karuk jogged, weaving and dodging through the mob trying to catch up to Kaevyn. As he drew closer he was finally able to see what Kaevyn marched towards with such purpose: a long line and a humble stand accompanied by a tent. There was a fortune teller and he was everything Karuk hadn't expected. In fact the only clue that he was a fortune teller was a crooked wooden sign hanging from two posts that made up his stall. The man himself was rather young, barely a wrinkle at the corner of his eyes and mouth. He didn't even wear a robe and his hair was still the common shade of brown all Noxians sported. The crowd seemed not to care if he didn't match the stereotype and they all waited patiently. Except Kaevyn.

Kaevyn never even looked for Karuk. He walked straight up to the man and dropped a sack of stolen coins in between them. To Karuk's surprise the line didn't seem bothered and he couldn't begin to imagine why until he got closer and saw a sign: two coins and a line or twenty coins and no line. Karuk couldn't make out what was being said between Kaevyn and the fortune teller from his vantage point, but after a short conversation the man beckoned Kaevyn through a curtain and they vanished from sight. Curiosity nagged at Karuk, but he refrained and settled for standing across the road from the fortuneteller's stall. The line almost reached him.

The carnival sucked. After walking through the festival with Kaevyn and now waiting outside a fortune teller's stall for his crazy accomplice, Karuk had decided that the carnival was a horrible place. His beginning sense of awe had worn off and now he could appreciate the more hidden, but worse parts of this carnival. The roads were practically mud and the dirt found its way onto everything and everyone in the place. Besides the roads the smell of "exotic" animals - that Karuk had no interest in - smelled foul and produced even more rank refuse that was generally left in piles around the edges of the site. On top of all that people were jammed in like packed sardines on the streets and he had felt several people feel his pockets.

After what seemed like ages Kaevyn emerged and Karuk stormed towards him. "What the hell, man? You could have at least told me you what the hell your plan was." Karuk said, eyes flashing. Kaevyn seemed to be deep in thought, but seemed to have the presence of mind to answer Karuk.

"Fuck off, kid, this was important to me." Kaevyn rebuked and to Karuk's surprise there was a hint of fear in his voice. Kaevyn marched past Karuk and stormed down the street. Surprised, Karuk turned to follow him down the road.

"Hey! Wait!" He heard a voice calling from behind him. "Kid! You, kid!" Karuk turned to face his pursuer. He was damn tired of being called kid. The source of the voice was the fortune teller. He had left his post and now most of the line was staring at him like wolves. "Sorry, but I must read you!" The fortune teller panted as if walking from his stall had winded him. The crowd turned back, some letting hisses of annoyance out. He couldn't tell if they wanted to chase him down or were tired of the wait. Karuk wrinkled his nose and the fortune teller, sensing his disinterest, said, "It is on me. Just… I must read you."

"I don't have to pay?" Karuk said narrowing his eyes at the man.

"Completely free." The man said. His eyes sincere, but piercing and his voice almost commanded him to have his fortune read for free. The fortune teller seemed to sense Karuk's willingness and said excitedly, "Follow me, if you please." The man turned around and halfway to his stall turned his head over his shoulder to make sure Karuk was following. He was. Some in the line glowered at him.

Karuk followed him past the counter and through the curtain at the back of the stall and was amazed. From the outside it appeared as if he was simply walking through the wall of a tent, but when he parted the curtain he found himself in a completely pitch black room. There was no light and as he spun around he could not find the entrance or see an exit. When he moved around it felt like he was weightless. He felt like a bird. Any direction he wished to go he seemed to move and, yet, he was unable to escape the darkness he found himself enveloped in.

He heard a voice off in the distance, but the words were muffled and incomprehensible. Then there was a small glow of light in the center of his vision that slowly drew closer. To his astonishment, no matter where he moved his head the light was always in the center of his vision. Karuk was not one to be afraid, but now he found his heart beat quickening and he could feel the sweat on his brow. The voice boomed around him and to his fear it was still incomprehensible, but boomed like thunder and seemed to shake the world.

And then he was sitting in the middle of a smoky tent, and across from him, a smile on his face, the fortune teller laughed.

**/AN: Hey, folks. I can't thank you enough for reading this far into my story. I know that you read the same message at the bottom of each of my chapters, but maybe as a writer yourself or perhaps from some other field you know that feed back is amazing. I have read and reread my reviews and they always make me smile. Thank you again for reading and reviewing. Until next time, later.**


	6. Kindling of a Flame

**/AN: Hey, folks. I am trying to work on an update schedule that works for me, but I have a couple dilemmas one mainly being college and work. Once I get back to school I might struggle to upload, but I will do everything I can to not slack anywhere. Good news is that I have the next chapter mostly completed already and will probably get that up right away. Anyways, I love your reviews and I love anyone who gave enough time to get this far into my story. I have a lot I want to try to do with this story, so with no further ado: Let us read.**

**Chapter 5: Kindling of a Flame**

"I can use magic? You can feel my mana?" Karuk repeated in disbelief. He was practically laughing. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Across from him was a man too young to be a fortune teller telling him he could use magic rather than telling him his fortune. What kind of fortune teller was this guy? The tent they sat in was impossibly large for the carnival, and impossibly quiet for the mobbed area they had been in just a moment ago.

The cloth walls of the tent, and roof, were suspended by absolutely nothing. There was nothing sturdy at all in the tent. Nothing to hold it up except… except magic. It seemed as if it floated on its own. The fortune teller smiled at him and repeated, "Karuk, you _can_ use magic. Have you not felt the energy course through you?" The fortune teller was excited and seemed almost zealous for him to admit his magical aptitude.

Karuk's blank stare answered for him. The fortune teller muttered something beneath his breath, but Karuk only heard the whisper of his breath against his lips. Karuk leaned forward and said, "What?"

"Nothing, child. I must ask, has anyone tried to teach you magic, or tried building up your mana pool?" The fortune teller started quickly before returning to a normal pace of speech. Karuk's eyes narrowed in an all too familiar way.

"No, for the last time, I have never even known magic existed let alone that I can use it and I still don't know what a mana pool is." Karuk was getting frustrated with the man's indirectness and assumptions. It was clear the fortune teller wanted something from him and as of yet Karuk was positive he hadn't obtained it.

"Karuk, mana is how many spell casts you can make, and how large they are, before you are too tired to cast another. An average human's mana pool is nearly nonexistent if it exists at all. Most humans have completely lost the ability to cast magic and those who can is through birth." The fortune teller paused to let Karuk absorb the information.

The fortune teller continued, "The mana pool of someone who could potentially become a mage is massive compared to a normal human, but still small compared to a true mage. You… you have almost as much mana as me… and I have been building it since I was a boy in my order." The fortune teller's grey eyes were glazed over as if peering into Karuk's capabilities and his voice was slow and awed. Karuk looked at the man and saw only sincerity and perhaps envy.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I didn't believe magic existed before coming here and witnessing it myself." Karuk spoke each word slowly, but even he was beginning to feel his curiosity mount. Just what exactly was he in the time he couldn't remember. His past life. His musings were cut short by the fortune teller's laughter.

"You think you have witnessed magic here? At this carnival?" The man laughed hysterically at the possibility. "True magic is earth shattering! This carnival is a fake! They wouldn't even be allowed to use magic."

"What? Why not?" Karuk asked confused. His eyes narrowed again. "Are you not using magic to make this tent? Why can you?" His words were drenched in suspicion.

"For fuck sake. Where did you go to school?" The fortune teller seethed. The expression on Karuk's face was dangerous and the fortune teller quickly calmed himself. How could he recruit this boy if he hated him? Children were fools.

"After the last Rune War magic was outlawed when half of the continent of Valoran was destroyed. Only a select few survived the purge knowingly by the governments of the realm. The rest are hunted down like demons and killed for better or worse! Do you see how the commoners fear what they cannot possess?"

Karuk's eyes widened as the man's explanation quickly turned zealous and hateful. "How does any of that have to do with me?" Karuk asked. Sure, the being hunted down and killed seemed kind of bad, but he had stayed alive so far.

"You are a prodigy! You could cleanse the world of manaless filth! We would grow you and make you more powerful than anyone else. You would be a true mage!" The fortune teller's eyes were crazed and his spittle flew from his mouth with each word. "Come back with me to the Void's Templar. We will cleanse this world and baptize it in mana!"

"No." Karuk stated, eyeing the crazed man cautiously.

"You filthy street urchin!" The man screamed in rage. The tent they were in began swaying violently and the world around him began to twist and churn like an ocean. He could still hear the fortune teller babbling in the darkness that had enveloped them. He could hear the man curse himself for letting his concentration slip so far as to let his illusion fail itself.

When the world stopped spinning he found himself on his hands and knees at the foot of the tent behind the fortune teller's stand. His stomach and body wasn't ready for any of the pitching and spinning that had occurred on his transportation out of that mysterious place. His head ached with confusion and sensory overload and the nausea in the pit of his stomach finally forced him to throw up.

Beside him the fortune teller was doing the same. In front of him the masses waiting in line had fled in confusion, impatience, or fear. He didn't particularly know. When he turned to the fortune teller the man was kneeling on the ground with his hands clenched together, fingers of his right hand circling the fingers of his left. His thumbs however were crossed making a 'v' shaped symbol.

"You must return with me to the Void's Templar immediately, Karuk." The fortune teller spoke finally. Karuk was still breathing heavily and spit dripped from his mouth as he leaned over his vomit coughing. Karuk finally recovered and looked at the man.

"I. Already. Told you, I will _not _join your crazy order of the Void." The man's face contorted in full-fledged rage.

"We are the Void's Templar!" The man said dangerously before continuing, "If you don't come willingly I _will _drag you behind me with hardly enough blood to keep your brain intact!" The crazed man leapt to his feet and stared at Karuk. "We will not squander your talent, child!"

To Karuk the sight was almost comical. The man was standing with both legs apart and his arms were high above his head. The fortune tellers grey eyes were wide and greyed with madness. Suicidal. The man's palms were facing Karuk and a sickly purple was churning in the man's hands. It really would have been funny had he not been positive he was about to be mortally wounded.

Karuk lashed out with his fist as he jumped from the ground. The blow connected with an invisible wall that shimmered and he nearly screamed in pain. He turned and sprinted clutching his fist to his stomach. To his horror the man was floating behind him cackling as he easily kept up with Karuk's speed. Desperate, Karuk flung several knives behind him, but they too were intercepted by the shimmering shield. Purple beams began blasting around him and despite willing himself not to he looked behind him to see the floating mad man annihilating everything around him.

He quickly reached a crowded area of the carnival and thought for a moment he was free until more purple beams flew around him hitting anything or anyone. To his horror the victims of the beams had melted skin that joined arms to chests and legs to legs. The magic was welding limbs together and creating deformed monsters.

The ground the beams touched simply blackened in a little ring leaving the grass on the inside and out perfectly fine. As he ducked and weaved through the now fleeing crowd he began to feel it. The energy he had used throwing knives was there and he could feel it coursing through him. Behind him he could see a sea of people running with him and among them the mad fortune teller staring directly at him as his purple beams ruined lives and mutated.

The mana seemed attached to his daggers. Whenever he felt into his 'pool' as the man called it he could almost see a signature on his blades. More purple beams whizzed over his head and he growled in frustration. This was no time to be learning how to use his magic.

He tried to imagine that each dagger was and extension of his fingers. To him it felt very much like he was assigning seats for his daggers to his fingers. Finally when all the magical tethering had been worked out he clenched his fist. He felt the 'magic' course through him before it felt like he was pulling a massive dog. His closed fist flung back behind him and he had to tense his arm to stop himself from losing it entirely. He could feel his tendons strain under the force.

His daggers flew to his hand bloodied by the people they had crunched through. Even the handles were smeared in blood and many of them were cracked. Five of the daggers swarmed his hand, hovering around his fingertips. He almost stopped running between his arm nearly being pulled off and the fact that the daggers were floating around his fingertips like he was some sort of mage. When he finally was able to focus on the world around him he realized the carnival was gone. Long gone.

He was standing in the middle of Noxus. It was impossible. How could he run so fast, so far? The daggers still floating around his hand were the exact same he had flung desperately at the fortune teller and bounced off his shield. He shouldn't have them, but he had called them, and they had come.

* * *

Kaevyn, the bastard, was asleep when he returned. He had time to do a lot of thinking while he was lost in the massive city of Noxus and now that he was finally back home - was that what this was to him now? - he was determined to practice his 'magic' and even more confident in his ability to survive. As he drifted to sleep he had to wonder what Kaevyn had wanted from the man.

He dreamed. This time he was plagued with all of his demons. In the background, constantly was the word monster in Riven's voice, of course. The girl from the carnival's face drifted lazily across his vision disembodied, blood dripping from her neck and a smile on her lips. However, the real disturbing feature was the landscape. The ground around him was such a dark purple it looked black. Anything that had been living was dead. Massive purple structures rose from the forsaken earth and even above Riven's mantra he could hear chanting from the buildings. They were pyramidal and on the top was a large swirling purple portal. The structures were everywhere. At random intervals devilish monsters spewed from the purple swirls on the top of each. Some flew into the sky to join hordes of similar demons while others scampered across the ground no larger than dogs.

Some, however, were as large as buildings their gaping maws more than capable of swallowing a full grown man and his friends. Each of the monsters had a hard exoskeleton and he could see spines arching from their backs and elbows. They were unworldly. Then the nightmare shifted and he was no longer watching a nightmarish army muster, but instead was watching a congregation of men shrouded in purple cloaks with shining silver V's on their chests. The fortune teller was among them looking directly into Karuk's eyes. He cackled madly before shouting, "You see, Karuk? You cannot escape me!" His voice boomed so loudly his ears rang as if an explosion had gone off next to him.

And, then, he was awake. He was sweating profusely and his body was terrifyingly pale very unlike his normal Noxian complexion. The stars in the night sky were bright and shining. The moon's light matched his skin and he gave an involuntary shudder.

Karuk sat in the corner with a view out the window and waited, never letting himself fall back to sleep. While his body was exhausted he could feel his mana pool. It had already returned to strength. He grabbed his knives and propelled them towards the far wall. They all flew to the same point and to his disappointment many clattered against each other midair falling to the ground. In fact, only one dagger made it to his target. He clenched his fist. The tug on his arm was strong, but nowhere near as powerful as it had been at the carnival. The daggers on the ground flew to hover around his hand while the one in the wall popped off with force and flew to his hand seconds after.

He waved his hand propelling the daggers forward sequentially. They slammed into the wall at the altitude his hand had been at their release. He clenched his fist. They returned to his hand with a tug at his arm. A slight smile spread across his face.

Kaevyn still slept despite the noise and Karuk did not fear to disturb him because, so far, the boy had only awoken after the sun had reached the sky. Karuk continued to practice.

* * *

They had developed a pretty effective technique, but something was off about Kaevyn. Most of the things he said and did seemed rehearsed or at least unoriginal. It seemed that Kaevyn was running through the same pattern that he did daily, but as far as Karuk knew Kaevyn had never taught anyone else how to be a thief like he had done today with Karuk. Whatever was bothering Kaevyn certainly didn't interfere with their thievery?

Before they had left Kaevyn had outlined the plan. He would distract the owner of the stand while Karuk would swipe whatever he could reach and slip away. Then, Kaevyn would simply leave the man to return to his wares only to realize items were missing and to scream and shout with nothing, but his ghosts to accuse.

The strategy really only had one flaw: Self-righteous assholes. It was their third go around and so far everything was going to plan. Kaevyn had approached the shop keeper and had struck him up in conversation while biting into an apple he had stolen blatantly from the man. The storekeeper was fuming and with flared nostrils berated Kaevyn who smiled pleasantly and almost innocently at the man begging for more free gifts.

Karuk hardly looked at Kaevyn. He went right for the items. This stand was a fruit vendor and he sold all sorts of exotic and common fruits. With such variety it was hard for a simple minded thief to pick out anything, but to Karuk it was easy. People wanted the harder to get things and he could simply sell a few to make quick coin in the Noxian underworld. He was reaching for his second plum - only grown in Demacia - when a man behind him yelled, "Thief! Thief! Stop that child!"

Karuk didn't bother to check if the man was indeed referring to him. Kaevyn and he had a plan and that was to run at the first sign of trouble, and he stuck to it. He noticed Kaevyn punch the shopkeeper in the gut before turning on his heel and racing down the crowded market street. Karuk made sure to run the other way.

Compared to his first chase this one was a walk in the park. Really the only one chasing was after Kaevyn and the others were simply yelling and hollering, raising 'awareness'. He escaped easily dashing in between clumps of people and soon vanishing into a sea of unrecognizable faces. He wasn't even out of breath when he made it back to his and Kaevyn's hideout. The building still perplexed Karuk. Sometimes he could hear large numbers of people beneath him, but generally they were quiet and seemed to be even more often away from home.

Honestly, it didn't matter to him. Who cared if he lived above a shady household so long as they didn't bother him? He climbed up the building from the way Kaevyn had saved him that fateful night. The fire escape ladder was slid up at the moment and he didn't feel like going through the convolutedness that Kaevyn went through to do it and so he simply pulled the ladder down with his magic. Just barely remembering to make sure no one was around to him perform his offense.

They kept all the days loot on the roof so they could return to the market faster, and now Karuk could appreciate the salvage of the day. They had stolen a number of daggers and more bread than they could ever hope to need. It was a good haul he assumed.

To Karuk's surprise Kaevyn was fuming when he returned from wherever he had been chased to. "I can't believe you let them see you!" Kaevyn seethed in rage. "What the fuck Karuk? You practically wasted the rest of the day!" To Karuk Kaevyn was completely out of line. They had swiped plenty of items and as far as he could tell they had more than double Kaevyn's current supplies in a mere three trips.

"Kaevyn, it wasn't even the damn shopkeeper who saw me. It was some asshole behind me." Karuk attempted to explain himself, but apparently his answer was not what Kaevyn was looking for because the boy's eyes narrowed in fury.

"You need to be more aware! You are going to get me killed!" Kaevyn said mad with fear and rage alike. Karuk was perplexed. Was Kaevyn a coward? Before he even had time to respond to the boy, however, Kaevyn was digging through their bounty.

"These daggers really are perfect, Karuk! You have a great eye. They are perfectly balanced, and the right size to throw or stab." Karuk was dumb founded. The boy seemed to be an emotional tornado. Kaevyn seemed not to notice Karuk's mouth agape and lifted the hatch. He tossed down the weapons and breads first, and then asked, "Where are the fruits?"

Karuk held out the only two plums he had managed to swipe from the stand. "This is what I could get before they called us out." He watched Kaevyn carefully, but the boy seemed not to care at all. In fact, he grabbed one and took a massive bite out of it before tossing the other down the hatch.

"Delicious," Kaevyn said with a smile. He disappeared down the trapdoor leaving Karuk to follow on his own. He considered leaving right then, but in the end decided that their was still stuff to learn, and if he was honest he didn't want to just leave Kaevyn. Despite the boys seemingly madness he felt like he was almost a brother or at least a good friend, and Karuk didn't have many of those.

So, he followed Kaevyn down the trapdoor and to his astonishment saw that several floor boards had been removed revealing a massive space in the floor of the hallway. Kaevyn stood inside of it moving different bags and wrapped bundles of items. "What the fuck?" Karuk whispered.

Kaevyn barely heard him, but a smile grew on his face. "You thought all I had was in that pack?" Kaevyn looked at him with an amused expression before saying, "You don't survive here being stupid, kid." At the use of kid Karuk glowered slightly before looking down into the whole. There were shelves loaded with food and other items. On one shelf there were just sheets of cloth.

"Kaevyn, what are you using those cloths for?" Karuk asked just barely letting the anger seep out of his voice. Kaevyn looked around the submerged room before laying eyes on the layers of cloth.

"Oh, nothing. I just find stuff and put it in here. Why?" Kaevyn seemed completely ignorant of Karuk's problem which only made him more angry.

"Are you saying I could have been sleeping on that instead of the damn wooden floor?" Karuk said slowly. He watched Kaevyn for a reaction and the boy didn't fail to provide. A massive grin grew on his face before he finally opened his mouth.

"Karuk, you tough as nails piece of shit, I completely forgot you were sleeping on nothing!" Kaevyn finished with a guffaw of laughter. To Karuk's relief the boy grabbed the bundle and tossed it up to him. "Just put 'em down where you normally sleep, Karuk." Kaevyn couldn't see it, but Karuk was smiling at the use of his name.

**/AN Take 2: Hope you all enjoyed. Have a good day!**


	7. The Wolf and the Sheppard

**/AN: Hey, folks. Trying to really crank out chapters here and I think I have found a decent rhythm for now although I seriously doubt I can continue it, but for now enjoy. So at first I was going to wait to post this... but I can't! I am to damn excited right now lol. I know it is sad. Thanks again for your patronage and enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: The Wolf and The Sheppard**

Over the past several months Karuk had grown much more familiar with the underground of Noxus especially since he would sell some of his bounty to the less successful thieves of the city. He even sometimes managed to sell it for more and it made him question the philosophy of the so called underground he had found himself in. One of the things he had noticed were the guilds.

They were just glorified gangs to him and most of the work they did was extortion. The reason for their dominance was because they were the only kind of police in all of Noxus. Store owners and residents basically paid for their protection. The guilds fought each other constantly making the streets after dark a dangerous battle of swords and smoke bombs. Every guild tried to have some unique characteristic about them - Kaevyn had told him so - but to him they all were the same. They were just a bunch of assholes causing more fear than they prevented, all in the name of policing the public where the government wouldn't.

Karuk and Kaevyn had developed a routine and they had stuck to it like glue. They would wake up just as the sun came over the horizon, head to the marketplace, and steal until they were caught. That would be when the day of thievery ended and they would return back to their hideout to throw daggers or practice their swordsmanship in the hallway.

It wasn't the most glorious of lives, Karuk knew, but it was to him. He had whatever he wanted and he had plenty of free time to do what he pleased. He didn't even have a plan for what he would do afterwards. This was his life as far as he could see.

When Kaevyn woke and told him that today they wouldn't do anything he was all the more surprised. Kaevyn simply sat on his bed nervously biting his nails while Karuk tossed his daggers at the wall. He tried not to throw them magically all the time. He figured he should be able to do both and didn't like the thought of someone doubting his skill just because he aimed them magically.

There was a loud knock from below them. It was as if someone had punched the ceiling. "That is the signal." Kaevyn muttered almost to himself. He clenched his knuckles in fear before standing up and looking at Karuk.

"What? Kaevyn-" Karuk hadn't quite heard what Kaevyn had mumbled, but the apprehension on the boy's face was easy enough to read. Something was bothering him big time.

"I know you don't like guilds-" Kaevyn started before Karuk interrupted. Kaevyn shot him an annoyed glance that Karuk ignored.

"I hate them." Karuk stated. Kaevyn let out a long sigh before continuing.

"Alright, I know you do, but try to be open minded." Kaevyn said with a slight twinge of unease in his voice. "Karuk, how would you like to join The Dragon's Talons?" Kaevyn asked his fists clenched on the dagger at his hip. Karuk himself gripped the hilt of his daggers tightly when Kaevyn made the request.

"Fuck no," Karuk continued, "Why should we join them? What is wrong with what we have here?" Kaevyn sighed and moved to block the exit. His face had grown solemn at Karuk's refusal and at first Karuk was confused, but with a realization he understood. Kaevyn was recruiting him. How could Kaevyn be in a guild? The boy was always with him… It didn't make any sense to him.

"We don't make offers twice." Kaevyn said a sad smile on his face. Karuk's was full of rage, betrayal, and confusion. He looked around the room as if expecting more assailants to join his only friend.

"When did you join up Kaevyn?" Karuk asked quietly knowing he had failed to hide the hurt in his voice. He knew how the guilds worked. They asked if you would join them, and if you refused they cut your head off and stamped their emblem on your chest marking you theirs in death.

"I have been part of them for too long. It was before I even met you, my friend." Kaevyn began. He raised his hand to silence Karuk's questioning face. "Let me explain, before I make you choose." Kaevyn said solemnly. "I am what we call a snatcher. Our guild makes that our thing. Everyone we recruit is recruited by someone like me who looks young and probably a loner. We get to be friends and after a few months we bring them into the Dragon's embrace and that is that."

"I had another boy in my sights when you showed up. Your antics got him imprisoned. He is probably dead already." Kaevyn chuckled slightly and Karuk's face twisted. "The point is I knew I would need a replacement right away so I dragged your dumbass off the street." Kaevyn said almost chuckling despite the circumstances. "Anyway, you know how it works by now." Kaevyn drew his blades.

"Join or die." Kaevyn's eyes had deadened and the laugh was long gone from his voice. His daggers were clenched in each fist and Karuk knew without a doubt that Kaevyn was serious and one of them would half to die. Karuk studied him silently for ages.

"Who is it below us? Who is actually beneath us?" Karuk asked angry with himself for crushing the curiosity that would have alerted him. Angry that he had trusted someone else. Angry that he had grown content with his situation. Angry at Kaevyn for existing.

"More of the guild. We don't recruit far from home. We are in what is called the roost. Where we find new Dragons." Kaevyn said that last part with a smirk despite the situation they had found themselves in. "That is one of our unique things… Remember when I was telling you all about how guilds worked? And, how-"

"How I grew to hate them more with each new thing you told me?" Karuk interrupted angrily. Truthfully Karuk had no real reason to not join a guild. He had never interacted with any and he more or less did everything they did minus the street fights and extortion, but perhaps that was the reason. Karuk felt that he was living this miserable life because it was the only one he could live right now and he would be damn sure to live.

The guilds were just assholes. They beat, fought, and killed over humble peoples meager earning to protect themselves from the very same guild they paid to keep them safe. It was bull shit. It was cruel to those poor souls and despite the fact that he stole from them he could justify it to himself and in the end that is what matters and he knew he would never be able to be in a guild. Too many people. Too many deaths. Too many things he wished he wasn't.

Karuk walked towards Kaevyn who slightly backed up. They were now inside the hallway. "I refuse to join. I refuse to die." Karuk snarled. "Let me pass or I swear to-" He was interrupted when Kaevyn quickly switched to battle. He jumped towards Karuk slashing with one of his long daggers. Karuk jumped backwards, but the blade still ripped his tunic and drew an angry red line across his chest.

Karuk retaliated with a swing of his own, but the hallway stopped it before it had even started and he cursed himself beneath his breath. To buy time he tossed the dagger in his other hand at Kaevyn.

Kaevyn didn't have the space to react properly and the dagger sank into the side of his thigh. He only grunted in pain before launching himself at Karuk again. Kaevyn was a flurry of blades and Karuk found he was barely able to keep up with blows raining down on him. Kaevyn had been holding back in training. This Karuk was sure of. Now the boy was a whirlwind of steel and he was probably better than most soldiers on the continent.

One thing was certain. Karuk would not win this fight the way it was going now. Even now he was failing to block some of Kaevyn's cuts and while most were poorly aimed they still split skin and ripped muscle. They hurt like a bitch.

Kaevyn was unaware of one of his tricks though. He might just pull through. He clenched his fist. His daggers flew to his hand. Kaevyn grunted in surprise when the blade in his thigh was ripped out. His eyes widened and momentarily the flurry of steel slowed. "You can use magic…" He murmured.

He resumed his storm slashing and hacking even more rapidly almost desperately. Karuk launched his blades at Kaevyn. Kaevyn slid below them, but was kicked in the stomach by Karuk. Kaevyn rolled back and leapt up in time to see Karuk's clenched fist. The daggers raked through his back, trailing up over his shoulders before returning to float by Karuk's hand.

"You witch!" Kaevyn bellowed in pain. He rammed his shoulder into Karuk in a fit of rage. Karuk's blade slashed through his side, but he was slammed into the wall. The daggers once floating around his hand scattered across the room in a clatter he was sure to be heard down stairs. He slid down. The only sound he could hear was the throbbing of his heart and the ringing of his ears.

Kaevyn fell on top of him grabbing his hair and slamming him into the wood floor. Karuk's scalp burned in pain, but it was nothing compared to the explosion behind his eyes each time his head connected with the floor.

He could feel his consciousness slipping away from him. Kaevyn had a terrifying grin on his bloodied face and he raised Karuk's head to slam it back down. Karuk drew on his magic. He clenched his fist.

Kaevyn screamed. The blades soared to his clenched fist more or less touching Kaevyn's stomach. The strain on his arm became enormous as he tried to pull the daggers through Kaevyn. He had to stop the spell. The damage was already done.

Kaevyn dropped Karuk's head to the floor and fell on his face. Karuk could feel Kaevyn's blood seeping onto his body. None of his blades had made it to his hand, but they had gone a good ways through Kaevyn. Karuk pushed Kaevyn away from him and let the boy's body roll to the floor resting on his side. Kaevyn was propped up by the hilt of a dagger that made Karuk shudder in empathy.

To his horror Kaevyn still breathed. Blood was painted around his lips like a drunks reapplied lip stick. Each breath he drew made a sick sucking sound. Karuk's eyes were widened in horror and he was frozen in place with indecision.

"Kill. Me." Kaevyn just managed to enunciate the words and the effort made him cough blood up and onto his face. Karuk was still frozen. Kaevyn was writhing on the floor. The hilts of Karuk's daggers twisting around spinning the blades through Kaevyn's back. "Please. You fucking witch!" Kaevyn groaned with a bit of his old attitude. Karuk finally came to.

"Do you remember, Karuk? The fortune teller?" Kaevyn said as Karuk approached him. "He told me I would be dead before you joined the guild. He told me I was a dead man." Kaevyn coughed more blood this time spitting it onto the floor. "He wasn't wrong when he told me my mother would… my mother would kill herself either." His eyes were glazed in pain and sadness.

Karuk kneeled above him. Tears dripped from his eyes. He felt weak with horror and confusion. Kaevyn's confession seemed unnecessary on his death bed. "Finish me. I hurt…" Kaevyn moaned. As Karuk sank his knife into Kaevyn's heart and Kaevyn's last breath whispered against his face he pledged to end The Dragon's Talons.

Karuk retrieved his daggers and looked around the so called roost. Blood spattered the room and to top off the festivities Kaevyn's body lay in a pool of drying blood. He squeezed his eyes shut willing the gruesome scene away, but when he opened his eyes the nightmare was still very real.

He couldn't look away from the cooling body of his best friend. He couldn't believe he never knew who his best friend was. He couldn't believe he never tried to figure it out. It had to have been obvious. How could he so easily believe Kaevyn to be a loner? He was a fool. A fucking idiot and now he… he had murdered his only friend because of a stupid fucking guild had just been trying to manipulate him. Hell, his friend was probably just pretending. For all he knew he never even had a real friend. Kaevyn was just a facade.

He fucking hated the guilds and he really fucking hated The Dragon's Talon. And those fuckers were all underneath of him. They were going to die. He would kill them all. Karuk clenched his fists involuntarily summoning his daggers to his fist. Now he was a monster. His eyes watered as he remembered Riven's words.

She didn't know what a real monster was, but now, now he did. He would embrace it. The guilds would fear his name. Soon they would be begging him to stay away. He gathered as many possessions as he could carry from the roost and hauled them up the ladder and through the trapdoor leaving them on the roof. He returned to Kaevyn and gently closed his eyes. "I will avenge you, Kaevyn… I will make them pay for what they have done." Karuk whispered the words and felt his fingernails dig into his palm.

Karuk didn't bother to move the items from the roof. He had no idea where to stay, and besides, he had a gang to exterminate. As far as he could tell there was only one entrance to the ground floor of his building and it was conveniently in a tight dark alleyway. It was the perfect place for an army of self-proclaimed police to hide away from the light of the sun. It would be their last memory before their deaths. Above the door way and wrapping around the building along with the twisting alleyways that surrounded it was a ledge above the doorway.

As he was watching it he saw a young man asleep in against a wall on the ledge. The boy was in a similar cloak to the one Kaevyn always worn. As Karuk approached he saw numerous blades strapped to the teen. Kaevyn remembered his promise. He crouched on the ledge above the door with a dead body as company.

Then there was commotion from just inside the doorway. It seemed like an argument of sorts that somehow involved his and Kaevyn's name as long as some other boy. The door opened and he heard a voice, "Watch this. That dumb ass will still be asleep after I yell up at him. Hey! Cherk! Wake the fuck up!" He heard laughter when the boy didn't respond. A grim smile slightly touched Karuk's lips. If only they knew the truth. As the door closed he barely heard the same voice say, "Somebody needs to-" The door closed and their plotting was once again a mystery.

Finally a mere child left and started around the building to the side with the fire escape. The child had made him hesitate. Was the boy really part of a guild? Who was actually beneath him right now? Had they not said his and Kaevyn's names? The boy returned after several minutes and Karuk regretted sparing him.

When he returned his eyes were glazed and he was sprinting. He practically shouted once he had gotten inside the door and even Karuk could hear his words, "Kaevyn is dead!" Immediately the door was flung open and three teens stepped out. Two of them were rather nervous, but the last one was calm.

"How could Kaevyn have died? He was one of the best fighters amongst us…" The boy said horrified that Karuk would be deadlier than Kaevyn. Karuk couldn't help but remember Kaevyn's deadly onslaught of steel and he had to agree with the boy. Kaevyn was good.

The calm one said, "Even the greatest warrior can trip. Don't be stupid. Kaevyn said Karuk was a decent swordsman, but he compared him to you for crying out loud." Karuk recognized him as the boy talking earlier. He was probably a leader of some sort. They began to move around the building. Karuk followed them on his ledge with his daggers hovering by his fingertips.

When he saw them one of the boys was already climbing the ladder. It was a good place to be ambushed. Karuk quickly identified the boy he had decided was the leader. He was still on the ground. In the shadows of the ledge he was underneath the boy on the ladder now, but above the two on the ground.

He propelled one of his daggers towards the leader. The boy jerked back in surprise as if he had seen the glint of steel, but the blade still connected next to his heart. The boy's lung had been pierced and Karuk could tell he was choking to death. He didn't wait to find out. He plummeted down on the boy next to him.

His daggers met on either side of the boy's neck. They crashed awkwardly to the ground. One was dead. The other groaning and smeared in blood. Karuk rolled quickly expecting an attack from the boy above him. None came. The boy was almost to the top, but now he was frozen as if the world had stopped. Karuk narrowed his eyes.

He was grabbed from behind. A blade was pulled to his throat. He heard the leaders labored breathing and then his voice, "You… you must be Karuk. You got me, but I think I might live a bit longer than you." His voice was gravelly and evil now. Karuk didn't blame him.

Karuk began to think in overdrive. He couldn't get away, but he had to! He wouldn't die this way… so close and yet so far from his goals. Mere seconds stretched for an eternity. He wished they were in a reverse situation. That Karuk was the one with the knife. He wished it more than anything he had desired before, and then, to his and his assailant's astonishment he was. Karuk didn't bother to question it.

He released his blades sending them crashing into the boy. The man fell into the ground only having time to somewhat spin around and face Karuk. On the ladder, the boy was staring down at him with hatred, but overwhelming fear glazed his eyes and stopped his movements. He was still nearly to the top and Karuk narrowed his eyes yet again at the coward.

Then to his horror the boy let go of the ladder. He plummeted into the ground and howled in pain. He writhed and cursed. Karuk raked his daggers across him and the boys struggle ended. Even from here Karuk could tell the boy had completely ruined his legs. The bone had crashed through his knees and now stuck up painfully from his thighs. Karuk couldn't help but feel that he had done the fool a favor.

Karuk looked around him. The alley was a mess. His daggers ripping and pulling motion sprayed blooded everywhere and nothing avoided the droplets. Behind him the door opened. "Holy Shit!" Someone screamed before slamming the door shut. He heard yelling, but to his surprised he only heard three or maybe five people.

He had expected a lot worse. So far the only wounds he had was a small scratch on his neck and the ones Kaevyn had inflicted. Fuck Kaevyn for comparing him to that fucking coward who now had his shin bones in the air.

The death of the last few boys had been long and painstaking. They were cowards. They came out one at a time. The fools, the cowards all died alone. Each one he dropped down and stabbed his daggers through each side of their neck. He would drag their bodies to the side, lying in the gutter. He would return to his ledge and wait an hour or two and then plunge from the ledge and repeat the whole process. In all there had been four boys left in the building.

There was a small heap of bodies in the gutter, but he didn't care. He entered the bottom floor of the building. There were two floors on this section that wasn't called the roost and they all had 'beds' on the first floor. Except there was one room that was dedicated to who he had to assume the leader was and it had a real bed along with furniture and lamps.

The rest of the building was just packed with supplies ranging from blades to clothes to food. It didn't really matter to him. Once the other guilds realized there was a hole in the coverage they would be here and they would be itching to take out all of this stuff.

He wished he could take it, but already he had as much as he could carry safely on the roof of the damn place and he couldn't risk taking more.

* * *

Karuk lived on the roofs of buildings now and when it rained he was miserable. He managed to stay warm with enough layers of cloth and several sheets of cardboard. It was a miserable existence and yet he found himself happier than he had ever been before in his life.

For the first time he relied on no one for anything. He managed to steal just enough to keep him strong and content with his resources and he was even happier that he felt he was less of a burden on the poor clerks that sustained him. The one thing that bothered him was his limited interactions with people. His most frequent exchange of words was a 'stop thief!' and a deadpan expression from. Not very entertaining and he had to admit he was lonely.

Perhaps that is why he found himself wandering the alleys for no particular reason. Normally he would stay on main streets and the moment he left them he was running atop the roofs of houses like a shadow. Today he was slinking through the alleys out of boredom.

"Talon!" He heard a voice in the alleyway he was walking down. It didn't mean anything to him. People yelled stupid shit all the time in the alleys because of drugs, madness, or some other unfathomable reason. "Talon!" The voice repeated incessantly. He looked towards the voice which happened to be over his shoulder and the boy stopped. "Sorry! I…" The boy stuttered.

Before he could formulate his words Karuk spoke. "Why are you calling me Talon, kid?" Karuk narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the boy breathed heavily, his face white with fear.

"You are the one… right? You ended The Dragon's Talons?" The boy was annoyingly hesitant and Karuk realized his thirst for social interaction was clearly a misplaced desire that he really couldn't care less about. The boy must have seen him recognize the name or something because he continued, "They call you Talon because of the wounds on so many of the men you killed. It was as if a bird had sunk its talons into their shoulders." The boy said in awe and admiration.

"Fine then," Karuk responded. "Now get lost!" Karuk growled menacingly as he began to continue on his way.

"You must join The Dark Widow! We are the greatest. We would never succumb to a single fighter!" The boy said the words like they were drilled through his head and Karuk couldn't believe his ears. Did this boy just challenge him to a fight to the death?

Karuk remembered his words to Kaevyn and repeated them, "I refuse to join. I refuse to die." This time he lashed out first remembering Kaevyn's brutality. The boy died. To Karuk's surprise several men jumped out from the sides of the alley.

"You are going to regret killing him, punk! All of the men could see him. He needed to run not to fight. He grabbed a pouch and opened the one end and then threw it into the air. Black dusty smoke spewed from it clouding the alley. He heard several battle screams. He focused on the boy farthest away from the pack and found himself behind him. He smiled at his growing grasp on magic.

The pouch was just a simple technique he had learned from watching other thieves among the market place. It stung your eyes, but more importantly made it hard to see and was an excellent escape tool. He somewhat wondered why all the guilds didn't use the technique, but they were all fools anyway to so he didn't bother to question them too far.

He turned and ran as The Dark Widow crashed blades with each other hunting for a shadow in dark smoke.

**/AN: Thanks again. Until next time.**


	8. Legend's Spawn

**/AN: So, Hi again. Good news and bad news with this chapter going up. Good news being that the story has barely even started, but it is finally going to start getting to the main plot that really has barely been hinted at... sorry! Anyway the bad news is with school starting my upload rate is going to slow down a good deal. Bare with me and I will see this one done.**

**Enjoy everybody and thank you again for reading.**

**/AN: I am really really sorry about this chapter and I would like to thank Russian Hunter and MrStabyB11 for bringing to attention my mistake of copying the chapter twice. It is fixed now and I also edited a few spelling mistakes.**

**Chapter 7: Legend's Spawn**

A year had gone by and Karuk would be lying if he didn't say he felt on top of the world. Every single guild in the city had hunted him. At first it was out of outrage. They would find him and simply try and kill him for wiping out The Dragon's Talons, but now they were trying to prove themselves. They wanted to prove they were better than the others and that for some reason he would be willing to join their guild over all the others he had refused.

As he saw it, they viewed him as a person of power. If a guild had him in their ranks they would be the reigning power in the city and he would quickly become disposable once they used his infamy to gather numbers. Unfortunately for the guilds Karuk ignored them or slaughtered their messengers with his trademark twin stab on the neck. The one they had dubbed him Talon for. At first he had resented the name.

Now he embraced it. He was Talon now. Karuk had died fighting Kaevyn, but Talon lived in blood. He thrived in blood. Today was an off day for Talon. He easily stocked up supplies for weeks on end with only a few quick heists and he was able to make time to do nothing, but practice his magic and prowess with blades.

As of yet no one even knew he used magic. He used it readily in combat, but, for most, it is hard to see the magic in a thrown blade and none lived long enough to see the blades return to his clenched fist. He was weary with his magic. He remembered the fortune teller's words and they were easier to recall because of his tormented sleep. To practice his magic in peace he left the city of Noxus entirely and headed into the woods.

He never went to the same spot fearing someone following him and he never wore the same clothes out to practice. It was safe to say the fortune teller still had him rattled. He was just now leaving the bustle of the city and there were only several carts on the road and an equal number of people and animals. Skull of Noxian high command was easily visible from where he stood and the damned building chilled him to the bone.

He was far too familiar to it for the limited amount of time he could see it from the roofs of the building in Noxus at night. It was as if he had seen in for years before hand, but that was preposterous. Normally in the city Talon had taken to the roof tops or sewers favoring the roof tops partially because of his signature kill, but mainly because of the fresh air and stars over his head. He never slept facing that damn skull.

It was quite a trek to reach the forests that sprawled across Noxus and that was mainly for defensive purposes. What good was a castle wall with high towers if the woods blocked your view of the ground and gave easy access over the defenses? Instead the forests were cut back away from the walls by at least a mile and they were constantly trimmed to keep to specification.

The trek was worth it. Talon loved the forests. The air was unbelievably pure and the only real sign of mankind was the occasional wealthy noble's mansion or a common shack. To be honest, Talon liked the assortment of wealthy and poor. All people could appreciate the woods equally. The small villages he had visited were also much more pleasant than the capital. The distance from high command allowed for some form of small town government and the only real crime he had seen were committed by 'officials' collecting taxes for high command.

He wasn't headed to a town. He went down the main road leaving the gates of Noxus and continued down it for a mile after reaching the woods before finally disappearing into the foliage. After double checking the forest around him Talon began using his magic. He rarely waited to start using it. Magic was exciting and he loved finding ways to disguise hit from the idiots that plagued the streets of Noxus.

He had recently found a way to bend light around him and while it made him completely invisible it also somewhat distorted his vision. Talon found that most of his daggers would land slightly off where he was actually sending them even with his magic it was nearly impossible to aim properly.

His favorite technique so far was his teleport. It was amazing. It was disorienting and it was deadly. The problem was that as deadly as it was to his foes it was equally deadly to him for a number of reasons. Firstly, it somewhat disoriented him especially now that he was able to teleport to things that he had seen in the past, for example, Talon was able to remember a person or object and then face away from them before teleporting directly behind them. So far, none of his enemies had time to capitalize on his own mistakes, but he wouldn't fool himself.

Out there somewhere, he would meet someone that he couldn't simply dazzle with a silly teleport. Perhaps one of Talon's strengths was that he was able to see his mistakes as clearly as his enemies and he was willing to admit that he needed to fix them.

He should have been working on tracking and awareness. A woman dropped from the tree branches and landed softly on her feet. Talon's reaction time, however, needed no kind of training. His dagger in his hand was already slashing down at the red haired fool.

The woman leapt back with a short sword in each hand. Her face was familiar. She had crimson hair and piercing bright green eyes.

"I didn't take you for a mage." The girl's voice was rough yet smooth, soft yet strong. She was clad in black leather armor that barely counted as protection. It was practically just a bra made out of shiny black leather. She wore a jacket that didn't fall below her breasts with sleeves that only came to her elbows, granted they were rolled up slightly. She at least had actual pants that were acceptable although unbelievably form fitting compared to the materials Talon had seen. What Talon really cared about, however, was the number of blades strapped to her body.

"Cat got your tongue?" The woman said noticing Talon's thoughtful expression and lack of words. Talon tightened his grip on his sword. She had been watching him. She knew about his magic and so she had to die. Why, then, did he feel that he would never be capable of killing her? A growl escaped his throat.

"What is a city dog like you doing all the way out here?" The girl's eyes flickered in amusement. Her eyes quickly focused as Talon lunged forward. Offense was the best defense and so far it had suited him well. The girl was caught by surprise, but she manage to turn away from the blow only suffering a scratch to her nearly bare back.

"Ow! What the hell?" The girl screamed as they faced each other. Talon only clenched his teeth. It felt like he was fighting himself as much as the girl. Then he remembered. She was from the carnival. He had seen her there. She had haunted his dreams back then.

"Who are you?" Talon's voice was gruff and somewhat angry, but he sheathed his sword. It wasn't like he couldn't escape without it and he hoped it would show he was done fighting, for now.

"I saw you at the carnival," the girl said suddenly. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere. Normally I kill peasants that wander on to my family's property." She said it so matter-of-factly that Talon had to smile. She was more blood-thirsty than him. She sheathed her blades behind her back.

"As for names… You can call me… Tara," Tara said slowly and Talon wasn't fooled by her fake name, but he didn't particularly care. "Now that you know my name wouldn't you say it is fair that I know yours?" Tara continued stepping into a comfortable talking space among friends. Talon stepped back.

"They call me Talon." His voice was indifferent, but internally he was battling himself. He wasn't supposed to be seen! He wasn't supposed to let people know that he used magic and now he was just telling the woman, Tara, his name _after_ he decided not to kill her _after_ she saw him using his damn magic.

"Talon?" She scoffed. "Did you come up with that trying to impress the pretty urchins on the street?" She seemed unfazed by his magic and there was an air of arrogance and supreme confidence about her. He might not be able to bring himself to kill her, but nothing was stopping him from teaching the arrogant, _Tara_, a lesson in humility.

"You think you are good?" Talon sneered in response. "What makes you any better than me, girl?" His right hand was on the hilt of his sword sheathed on his hip.

"Is that a challenge?" The girl's eyes glinted mischievously.

"Unless you are scared." Talon couldn't help, but smirk at the feigned outrage on the girls face. She really was gorgeous, but he would be damned if he let that stop him. Tara elegantly flipped off of the ground. She somersaulted an impossible distance backwards and into the air landing lightly, like a cat, on a branch. Her eyes glowed and the verdant green of her irises matched the bright green of the leaves around her.

Talon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. That should have been impossible. His eyes widened as two daggers came flying from the lithe woman. They were hard to see in the dappled light of the forests, but his sharp eye's found them quickly enough. One was aimed at his face and the other was headed right for his heart. He dropped to the ground and somersaulted forward barely avoiding one of the blades. He felt it slam into his cloak. He wasn't used to this kind of combat. His enemy leapt from branch to branch refusing to even give him time to rest as daggers sailed from an impossible number of directions. He noticed something about the way she fought, a pattern. As skilled as she was, Tara used the same route and the daggers came from the same angles at a predictable time.

He focused on a branch he knew she would be at and as he appeared on it he was pleased to see a very startled Tara whipping her head around. She wasn't able to finish the motion. He tackled her off the branch and they plummeted to the ground. Her hair whipped behind her head and practically blinded Talon and by the time he hit the ground he had closed his eyes to stop the long strands from bothering his eyes. Her hair had an aroma of pine to it. His lack of focus was almost a deadly mistake.

He heard her groan when she hit the ground, but was surprised that she was rolling away from underneath him. When he finally found her she was sprinting through the woods. He raced after her and felt his mana drain as he pushed energy through his legs. She almost escaped. She almost won. She just wasn't quite good enough. He grabbed the collar of her jacket and jerked her sideways tearing the jacket off her and pulling them both into the dirt of the forest floor. This time he was ready for the impact. She, however, was not.

He rolled her onto her back and pinned her arm behind her head with one hand and trapped her other arm beneath his knee. His blade was against her throat. He could feel himself fighting internally again. He should end her. She knows his secret. She can so easily ruin him.

He couldn't do it. No matter how much he might have thought he wanted to plunge his blade through her throat and feel her blood seep between his fingers he couldn't. Instead he stood up and offered her his hand.

"I believe you owe me an apology… and perhaps your real name?" Talon said snidely hiding the laughter in his voice and the smile on his face. She stared up at him indignantly before taking his hand. Compared to his calloused dry hands, her hands were a fertile lush valley. He almost forgot to let go.

"Alright, fine. You got me. My name isn't Tara." The so called Tara admitted as she brushed off her pants and looked around, just realizing that her coat had fallen off. He saw it first. He had practically torn it in half when he jerked her. Tara's eyes eventually found the ruined jacket and she looked indifferently at it. The jacket left her shoulders bare and showed off more beautiful skin than he could particularly deal with. Instead he focused on the tattered jacket.

"I… Uh… sorry I didn't mean to ruin your jacket." Talon didn't really know how to apologize and, in fact, that might have been the first time he had ever done so. His words seemed to stick in his mouth and he couldn't keep his eyes on her face or coat or anywhere really. He glanced around the woods at anything other than her.

She had a soft smile on her face and as she stooped to pick up the torn jacket she said, "Like what you see Talon?" Her body was amazingly toned and her muscles were evident on her body. He couldn't tear his eyes away. She then preceded to break his trance with a school girlish giggle at his face before continuing, "I am just kidding, please. The jacket is worthless. I have a hundred of them I swear. Don't even worry about it."

Talon couldn't help, but raise an eyebrow at her attempts to make him not care, to not be embarrassed. Talon honestly didn't care about the jacket. After all he had just contemplated murdering her. "I believe you owe me at least your real name." Talon repeated himself. He couldn't explain why he cared other than the fact that she intrigued him.

She let out a sigh before blowing a strand of hair away from her face. "Alright, calm down. My real name is Katarina Du Couteau of the house Du Couteau." She blushed slightly in embarrassment before quickly adding, "I didn't really need to say what house after I… uh yeah..." She trailed off awkwardly. Talon's bemused expression seemed to prompt her on. "So, how about you Talon? That can't be your real name and you can stop pretending to be a filthy urchin you are too skilled to pull it off."

Talon smirked. "Is that a compliment?" He said his through his smile.

"You are impossible."

"I don't know my name." Talon stated without even a shadow of doubt flickering behind his eyes. His face seemed sincere, but Katarina obviously didn't believe him. He was about to explain further, but she interrupted him.

"If you don't know your name what did your parents call you?" Katarina said her smile growing in amusement believing she could easily crack through the lie. When Talon's face darkened she almost regretted asking.

"I never knew my parents." Talon muttered.

"Oh." Katarina didn't really say anything, but Talon saw it on her lips he could see the apologies flurrying off her lips already. A blizzard he particularly didn't care to listen to.

He interrupted her before the storm could begin with a raised hand. "It's fine. Don't even worry about it Katarina. At the orp-"

"Kat."

Talon looked back at her. Realizing his gaze had wandered away from her beautiful face, beautiful body. "What?" He managed.

"You can just call me Kat. If you want I mean. I don't know…" She stumbled off awkwardly again.

"At the orphanage they called me Karuk I-" Talon again was cut off and now he was starting to get slightly annoyed, but quickly found himself listening intently to what she had to say because it was familiar. It reminded him of him. His only friend.

"Oh, Talon… Karuk is a horrible name."

"I have been told."

"Do you know why?" Katarina somewhat whispered. The pity in her voice was going to kill him. Instead of saying anything he just shook his head. "Karuk is the name of a disgraced Noxian general from ancient times. The story goes that he sent his army on a suicidal mission and sat back at the comforts of home. When the leader of Noxus confronted him the man begged for another chance. They neutered him publicly before cutting off his head… slowly."

"Ah."

Katarina changed the subject slightly sensing Talon's pain. "How long has it been since you left the orphanage… and why aren't you going through enlistment right now... Or are you?" She asked him a storm of questions. Well, perhaps not a storm to a normal person, but he wasn't used to talking. In fact, he hadn't talked this much since before he had fought Kaevyn.

"I think I have been out of the orphanage for maybe two years give or take… and the reason I am not enlisted right now is a long story." He remembered Riven's face. He heard her words ring in his head as they so often did. Monster. This time though it sounded fainter, less powerful, and less destructive. Seeing his grimace Kat decided not to press to far, again.

"Well, that puts you at about fifteen or so I would wager. "You are only maybe a year older than me tops." She was looking into his eyes and at first he couldn't bring himself to make eye contact, but once he did he was lost. Her eyes were gorgeous. Her face was gorgeous. Her hair was luscious. She was a beautiful young woman. A small smile grew across her lips as he continued to stare at her.

"What are you even doing out here, Kat?" Talon said suddenly breaking their eye contact.

"The Du Couteau manor is about a mile that way in the middle of nowhere and I like to sneak away in to the woods... I am not really supposed to be out here. My father would be furious if he found me talking to the likes of you... Anyway, while I was walking through the trees I heard some dumb oaf barging about," She winked at him. "So, I decided to investigate."

"Am I really that loud?" Talon asked mainly to himself than to her.

"Yep." Kat answered for him with a smirk.

Talon gave her a sideways glance before saying what had been bothering him since he had seen her drop down out of the trees. "You aren't going to… uh… have me witch hunted are you?" She was surprised, but then a look of understanding dawned on her face.

"That explains a lot… I thought you were a noble playing dress up!" She laughed and to Talon it might as well have been the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and he couldn't help, but smile. "No… I won't tell." She said before she continued with a sinister smirk, "On one condition."

Talon frowned. He didn't like conditions. The woman had driven him to contemplate murdering her and giving her everything multiple times in less than an hour. He was in trouble. "Fine." He grumbled in submission.

"Where do you live?" Kat asked seriously. Talon looked at her surprised. "Come on, it is only fair. You practically know where I live."

With a deep sigh he said, "I live on the roof tops of Noxus. I don't live in one spot. I rarely go to the same spot twice. I do not have a regular pattern. I don't want to be found." He sort of regretting saying the words as he saw the hurt on Kat's face, but not really.

She seemed to recover pretty quickly and he already could see an idea in her mind. "Fine," She said. "You have to promise that in five days you will be in the nobleman's district." His face darkened considerably. "Talon please! I won't tell anyone. I promise…"

"Why do you even want to see me?" He snarled surprising himself. Kat appeared taken aback, but she seemed remarkably could at recovering from setbacks.

"I hate the forests… I love the noise of the city. The neat houses packed together. The hustle and bustle of a city alive!" Her eyes shone with her fantasy and Talon couldn't help, but roll his eyes. At least it wasn't about the military. Like how Riven was…

"In five days. I will be there." He turned to leave only to be stopped by Katarina's voice.

"Wait, Tal, I mean Talon, I mean... uh... sorry." She fumbled her words and Talon couldn't help but smile at her. She had taken a couple steps towards him, but seemed to hesitate. "I… uh… Never mind. Thank you!" She yelled and then she turned around and sprinted back through the woods leaving Talon to watch her go.

**/AN: Until next time.**


	9. A Lesson in Humility

**/AN:**

**Hey folks,**

**I feel like it has been a while and I sincerely apologize for the delay. I hope you enjoy this chapter for how long it took to upload. I am really interested in feed back about my character interaction and any sort of criticism and/or advice is very appreciated.**

**Chapter 8: A Lesson in Humility**

The man was dead before his body could crumple to the ground. His blood decorated the alley. Talon stared down impassively at the man. He now had a crooked smile on his neck, blood seeping from the wound. His weapons had fallen to the ground and they were of shitty quality, and Talon was somewhat disappointed in his victim. He was just another recruiter, one more scum to add to the populating gutter.

The guilds and different factions recruiting within the city had begun spreading word of him to outsiders; the bandits lurking around countryside, plaguing the rest of Noxus. He wouldn't even have known if it weren't for the unusual characters that had begun to ask him the same question everyone else did: join, or die. He could feel his own ego growing and he constantly found himself keeping it in check, but it was hard when a challenge had yet to be faced. Despite himself he found that he was contemplating the promise he had made; Contemplating actually going to meet her.

Katarina Du Couteau. From what he had heard from the whisperings of the gutter the Du Couteau family was not to be trifled with. The last main power figure within the family was Marcus Du Couteau, last remaining parent of Katarina and Cassiopeia Du Couteau the heirs to the power of his house, and that power was only surpassed by Baron Darkwill himself. He couldn't help but be suspicious of Kat's-Katarina's motives, and yet, he found himself heading to the noble's district to meet her. Perhaps, he was letting curiosity get the better of him, or… perhaps, he was lonely.

The noble district wasn't anything special anymore. At one point the district had boasted ninety percent of Noxus's wealth and had massive mansions strewn about, but now it had been filled by a miniscule middle class due to the flight of nobles to the surrounding countryside. Now the noble's district had lost almost all of its mansions in place of town houses, but the buildings were unmistakably in better condition than the rest of the city. Most of the houses were adorned with as much finery as affordably possible and everyone in the district tried to flaunt their relatively minor power. It was rather pathetic considering their only asset was wealth.

He saw her long before she found him, but he found it amusing to watch her jump from roof top to roof top. Her silhouette flickered as she jumped above the horizon only to fall back below upon landing on a roof. Honestly, he was surprised that she even showed up herself, and it made him curious. Talon watched as Katarina leapt gracefully across roof tops and smirked as she spun about with wide untrained eyes. She seemed to be trying to mimic some form of training, but hadn't quite grasped the techniques. Finally, she made her way to his roof. When she landed lightly Talon melted away from the shadows and to further his amusement Katarina's eyes widened in surprise.

"Have you been here the _whole _time?" Katarina questioned. Her gorgeous eyes flashing in mock outrage betrayed by the growing smile on her face. Before Talon could respond she continued, "I could have sworn you had gone back on your word… but, you didn't." She trailed off thoughtfully.

"I actually was here the whole time." Talon smirked. An awkward silence spread between them, and Talon turned to face away from the beautiful woman now behind him. He rarely turned his back on anyone, but something about her drove him nearly insane, and it was terrifying. The skull of Noxian high command was behind him, and sprawled before him was the great city state. The stench of the slums was distant and one could almost imagine the city wasn't full of the impoverished.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Katarina spoke softly by his side. Talon glanced towards Katarina who now stood uncomfortably close to him. Her eyes were wide and full of awe as she gazed on the wondrous city. Talon barely managed to stop his eyes from narrowing in distaste.

"What?" He half hoped she would say the stars in the night sky, or perhaps, the way the trees in the distance created a darkened smudge that raked into the sky.

Katarina glanced at him her eyes gleaming with life. "The city!" She exclaimed spreading her arms apart and spinning about, her long hair fanning around her. Talon couldn't help, but take in her figure. The woman was nothing else other than gorgeous. She was wearing the exact same outfit she had been when she had confronted him in the forests, a dark leather jacket with rolled up sleeves that hung open revealing her milky skin. A black leather bra protected her modesty from view and that was about it. Tight black leather pants hugged her legs and showed off her figure.

"It is only nice if you stay on the top." Talon finally replied as he turned away from the view and faced towards the oppressive skull of Noxian high command. Katarina seemed unaffected by his grim outlook.

"So, are you going to take me to dinner?" Katarina asked as she tried to get Talon's attention. It worked. Talon turned to her baffled. "Don't tell me you just expected me to come say hi!" Katarina said exasperated.

"Do I look like the kind of guy who takes people to dinner? Who even eats dinner?" Talon asked savagely. Managing to scare himself along with Katarina. To be honest he didn't eat at certain times regularly. He ate when he could and that had very little to do with when everyone else was eating. Noticing Katarina's frown he attempted to fix his words. "Look, I, uh, don't have any money… and I don't go to restaurants, so, I mean, I don't know." He finished clumsily, but, at least, Katarina's eyes glinted in amusement.

"You really are just an animal, aren't you?"

He nearly responded, 'I think you mean monster,' but he caught himself in time, and instead replied, "I guess so." Katarina only smiled apparently missing his slight hesitation and stutter.

"What do you do then, Talon?" Katarina asked curiously. Upon seeing his blank face she explained herself. "You know... for fun, for free time?" Talon's continued silence seemed to start bothering Katarina, and he desperately searched for an answer that wouldn't portray him as a lowly peasant.

"I..." Talon trailed off before he steeled himself. He wouldn't play games. Why did he even care to begin with? "I sharpen my knives. I practice my skills. I sleep." Blunt honesty might offend, but at least there would be no deception, no confusion; there would be nothing unexpected.

Katarina's teasing smirk softened. "Alright… how about you show me around the city?" Talon couldn't help but wonder what he was doing with this nobleman's daughter.

"Katarina -" He began.

"Kat."

"Kat, then, what are we doing here? Why are you here?" Her smile died and she looked away. Her expression changed several times and she opened and closed her mouth several times, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I… I mean…" She stuttered, lost for words. Talon narrowed his eyes, battling his cynicism and idealism. Katarina - Kat - sighed deeply seeming to consolidate herself. "Okay, look, I know that you are kind of… uh… untrusting, and I would assume that your upbringing lead you to who you are, but, please… let me…" She trailed off again.

"Let you what?" Talon questioned. Talon was surprised by the way she acted. He had never expected the daughter of the powerful Marcus Du Couteau to appear so weak and so readily to a strange man she knew nothing about.

"You wouldn't understand..." She trailed off and looked away. "Look, never mind. This was a mistake. I am leaving." Talon didn't try to stop her. He simply watched as she jumped gracefully from the roof and plummeted to the ground shrouded in shadows. Despite the height she simply continued running without missing a beat. Talon sat down and prepared for another night. As he drifted off fitfully, as he always did, he wondered if this would always be his life.

He heard them as they crept up the buildings walls, as they slithered over to him. He felt them lean over him slowly, as if inspecting him. As if they were observing a renowned object before contemplating its worth for themselves. Talon lay seemingly unaware of them, apparently blissfully asleep wrapped in a hug of unconsciousness.

In a flurry of motion he lunged towards his onlooker. To his astonishment the man leapt back, narrowly avoiding the attack, and had poised his blade for action. Talon glowered at the man expecting another question, another choice. None came, and the man only lunged forward viciously. Talon raise a dagger to deflect the man's steel only to see the man casually flick his other hand. He felt the blade rather than saw it. It tore into his flesh biting him painfully. He only grunted and launched his own offensive. To his astonishment his flurry of steel was equally matched by his opponents and the quiet of the early dawn was shattered with the clang of blades.

Talon lunged forward and while the man jumped backwards to avoid the blade Talon allowed his momentum to help him turn. He kicked off the ground and sailed to a nearby roof top. He let himself drop into a crouch and roll across the rough surface. He almost had to smile when the daggers he had anticipated flew over his head and clattered against the far side of the roof.

His assailant wasn't much farther behind his blades and Talon jumped out of his roll in time to parry the next swing. The man lunged forward snarling viciously. With every lunge he made Talon parried and countered. To his astonishment the man pressed onwards with incredible speed. Talon was forced to back pedal away. He could feel himself running out of roof. With each step back he drew nearer to an awkward fall.

He focused behind his enemy. He felt the familiar feeling. He lunged forward. His opponent wasn't able to turn fast enough to avoid Talon's lunge from behind. The crashed to the ground. Talon lashed out with a cruel kick sending the man sprawling to the edge of the roof top. The man attempted to stand. Talon forced a blade into his stomach.

The man let out a soft groan, but managed to parry the next attack of Talons relentless strikes. Talon kicked the man. He plummeted into the alley way. Talon didn't wait for him to land when he jumped off after him blades aimed lethally. The man rolled when he landed. Talon's blades swiped his victim's arms.

The man leapt up and shoved Talon suddenly, and to Talon's astonishment the man began to run down the alley clutching his stomach. Blood trailed behind him. The man didn't get far. Talon launched a wave of daggers towards the man and watched as they embedded themselves in his back. With a clenched fist and a slight tug the blades tore free splaying blood across the alley. The man collapsed in a heap.

There wasn't anything special about the man at first glance. He only wore a dull brown cloak like everyone else. However, upon further inspection the man was obviously something much more than a simple guild recruiter. He was well equipped. Underneath of his cloak was fine leather armor. It was black, but studded with steel to provide more protection against slashed, and the steel had been stained to try and prevent the revealing glare. Talon searched through the gear. He practically stripped the man, and when he was done he went through the pieces. There was a brown cloak, leather tunic, leather vambraces, leather pants, equipment belt, eight throwing darts - ten including the two on the roof - two short swords, and some sort of gauntleted blade.

The arm blade as he decided to call it was amazing to him. The weapon was unlike any other fist weapon he had ever seen. It was easily as long as a short sword, but twice as wide. Intricate patterns had been engraved in the perfect steel. On one side there were two leather straps. He slid it on. The blade fit on his arm and it felt right. The weight the blade added on his hand seemed perfect and he couldn't help, but smile with his prize. He returned to his other spoils.

The last thing that caught his eye was a simple silver necklace. It was a simple linked chain that had a symbol attached to one of the links. It was an intricate 'D' he realized after contemplating it and crossed through it were two vicious looking daggers. Beautiful and ominous, and it was probably worth a lot; yet Talon found himself somewhat attached to the trinket and instead of pocketing it, he put it around his own neck.

The sun was now well over the horizon and countless people began to wander down the streets to their jobs. It was rush hour. It was time to go about his business. He decided to don the armor of the dead man and he pushed the body into the side of the alley to rot until collected by which ever soul was so unfortunate as to have to do that job. Talon knew, better than most, that they were busy, a lot.

His favorite spot in the city was a corner of the market district. There were several quaint places that he had never actually investigated, but looked nice despite the filth around them. While the stores were nice, the real reason to his preference was the bakery, butcher shop, and the weapons dealer that occasionally meandered past dragging his cart.

Now, his eyes were trained on the bakery. Fresh loaves had just been brought out of the fire oven and the smell would soon attract more attention than the poor baker could handle. That is when he would borrow his supplies from them. The crowd thickened and he set off across the cobbled street and he entered the shop. The building was packed with people, most simple commoners, but there was the occasional wealthy man. You could always tell by the way they held themselves and it made them easy prey for someone as observant as himself, but today he only sought bread.

Almost as quickly as he had come he was able to walk out of the store casually with a loaf bread held in one hand. He had found that radiating confidence and acting normal made for better camouflage than many other options and he preferred it.

The butcher shop was conveniently right next to the baker and Talon could see the meat hanging by hooks, even from the street. He entered the store. The butcher shop was always tricky. He had found himself chased out of several before and he had probably been caught and chased from this very establishment three or four times. There was already a customer ordering different cuts of meat and Talon could hardly believe his luck.

The man simply took the wrapped cuts of meat and placed them in a bag by his feet while he continued his conversation with the butcher. They were talking about different preparation techniques for tenderloin or some nonsense. Talon grabbed a single cut from the man, going completely unnoticed by both him and the butcher.

The one thing that he actually did buy was the sharpening stone and polishing cloth that he purchased almost daily from the weapons dealer. The man, who was the vendor, was rather shady. Weapons dealing wasn't really illegal in Noxus, but it was somewhat of a alleyway sale and Talon knew that this particular individual didn't only deal in weapons.

When he finally found the man he was unsurprised to see his arms wrapped around a couple of wenches and another man - most likely a buyer - standing across from. Talon walked past the man and approached the dealer. "You know what I want." Talon said coldly. He could feel the man behind him watching him with rage in his eyes, but before he could do anything the dealer spoke.

"One of these bitches maybe?" The dealer laughed heartily. Talon sneered at the man. The man's side professions were disgusting, but this one was a lot more legal than the drugs he had underneath all his weapons.

"Hey, Narik, you might want to hide that stink eye you have there. This boy here might just knock your teeth out." The man bellowed out speaking to his client behind Talon. The man, Narik, huffed, but made no further action.

"You finally want yourself a bitch, here boy? I have seen you coin enough to know you can afford at least one."

"I just want a damn sharpening stone and a polishing cloth." Talon stated coldly.

"You sure you don't want one? What if I throw in -"

Talon placed his hand down hard on the cart effectively interrupting the man. "Sharpening stone and Cloth."

"Okay, okay. Can't blame a guy for a little old self-promotion here and there." The man finally moved to retrieve Talon's coin only to be met by a snarl from Talon. The dealer sighed audibly before going to retrieve the sharpening stone and cloth. When he procured them Talon swiped them up and left promptly.

As the sun set, Talon returned to the roof tops. He had stolen enough food to get him by and he had acquired a sharpening stone and a rag to maintain his blades. That was all he needed. It was all he wanted. He sat cross legged on the top of the building and reflected on his last fight. The man had been good, and if it hadn't been for Talon's magic, he very well might have been too good. He gripped the man's necklace that now hung around his own neck. He knew his time was coming to an end. He was too famous, too sought after. People wanted to best him. They wanted to say they were the strongest.

There was a whisper of wind. The slightest sense of something being wrong. Something was very wrong. "You know, I expected more of the one called, Talon, who killed one of my top assassins. Instead I find a mere boy contemplating his pathetic excuse of a life on some poor fucks rooftop." Talon's hair stood on end. The voice was colder than ice and carried the confidence of a well lead life with numerous successes. The voice of a murderer matched with the voice of a champion.

"A mere peasant luring off my daughter into the fucking city so that I have to send one of my men to watch after her." The man seemed content to monologue and Talon listened intently to find the source without turning to face his newest company. "Imagine," the voice continued, "my surprise when my assassin returns moments after my daughter storms upstairs to tell me she is in some sort of _romance_," Talon heard the man spit after uttering the word like it was a foul tasting gristle. "With some peasant. Imagine my anger that not only had that _peasant _intrigued my beautiful daughter, but also sent her home in a fury?" The man seethed for a moment, but seemed to calm himself before his next words. "Imagine my astonishment when one of my best assassins doesn't return after a simple task like killing a damned street rat like yourself." The man took a deep breath before a slight smirk came to his lips. "Imagine finding his killer, a mere teen, staring into the sky fumbling with the necklace I give all my elite."

The man took another pause and Talon heard him step slightly closer even though he had yet to see the man. He rarely cared about visuals. Offense was the best defense. The advantage of surprise was truly a great weapon.

He spun on his feet and lunged at the man he knew must be talking right behind him. His fist clenched around the strap of his new fist weapon and he punched towards the man. The man stepped to the side and kick his him in the ribs. He grunted in surprise. His attacker had short military style black hair and a confident, if not condescending, smile. Talon narrowed his eyes.

He lunged forward in a flurry of seeming chaotic movements, refusing to be put on his back foot again today. The man's smile turned to a full grin as Talon attacked and he matched Talon's assault of fury with calculating counters and powerful parries. It quickly became apparent who the superior was and Talon realized he was on the offensive because the man wanted him to be on the offensive.

He jumped away from the man and whipped his daggers back towards him even as he spun away. He heard the daggers ping off the metal blade the man wielded and he leapt away attempting to flee from his pursuer. The man was too fast and Talon found that he had not choice, but to turn and face him again as he heard blades whistling over his shoulder.

He lashed out in a vicious un-aimed swipe as he turned. The man raised his blade to cross their blades and launched himself into Talon using his other hand to draw a dagger. And, then, they were falling. Talon could feel the dagger plunge into his stomach. The man's dark brown eyes - much like his own - were still cold and calculating. Talon drew on his magic and then he was behind the man looking at the back of his head. As the plummeted, Talon pushed down with his arms.

Even though he had a body to black the impact he staggered and rolled away. The dagger still lodged in his gut painfully twisting to the point where the pain was almost pushing him to unconsciousness. He tried to get to his feet. The man, his killer, was already standing ominously over him.

"So, that is your secret. Magic." The man let out a hearty laugh before kicking Talon viciously. Talon was vaguely aware of the man approaching him as he lost consciousness.


	10. Betrayal

**Chapter 9: Betrayal**

When his mind finally reconnected with his body, after floating through blissful unconsciousness, Talon wished it hadn't. Pain overwhelmed his senses and his body felt more exhausted than he could ever imagine. The only good thing that came from the pain assaulting his tender senses was that he was alive. He had survived. He blinked open his eyes.

The dungeon that greeted him was hardly a surprise. He was practically naked except for a loin cloth that did little to protect him from the cold dampness of his surroundings. The only light in the cellar came from cracks in the wood ceiling and they just barely illuminated his surroundings. The wooden post he was tied to was not facing any doors. The knots were strong, the rope was strong; there was no escaping this fate. He hung his head, closed his eyes, and waited.

Several hours must have passed. Maybe a day, before he heard boots thundering down stairs. A sudden explosion of noise careened into his senses. The number of voices were practically impossible to comprehend to the exhausted Talon, but he could understand the number of people around him. Most of them seemed to stand at the edge of his vision along the walls of the room, but one with a deep purple robe stepped forward.

When Talon's eyes met his, the man only smiled before he raised his hand, fingers stretching towards Talon. Blue energy seeped from his body, and Talon widened his eyes in surprise. "What are you doing?" His voice was raspy, and his throat burned from dehydration. The man continued and the energy began to surge from Talon's body. The substance burned him as it left. Looking down at himself he could see burn marks spreading across his body. Talon tried to resist. He strained against his bindings. He screamed.

The men around him continued to talk as the purple hooded demon used their magic. They seemingly were only here to discourage any attempts Talon might make at escape. The burning sensation faded away and the last wisps of blue energy floated away. With his work apparently finished the mage left, and his guards promptly followed suit.

In the silence of the cellar the only comfort was the pain all over his body, and the only other sound within the building; the sound of his captors footsteps above him.

The sound of feet pounding down creaking wooden stairs alerted him through the fog of pain and Talon opened his eyes. He was greeted by the same blank cobbled wall that had been their earlier. Hours had past, and yet the purple robed man had not returned and neither had anyone else. He couldn't help, but lift his head curiously. Talon's stomach growled. A sound he knew meant he was truly hungry. The footsteps stopped and he heard a key being jiggled into a lock. A door creaked open and he felt a breeze of warm air against his singed back.

"Fuck you." Talon snarled before any words could be spoken. A soft gasp betrayed the intruder's presence. He strained against his ropes once again, if only to show his rage. The pain caused by the action was worth being alive and fighting. He could feel the rope rub his wrists and ankles raw. "Did you lose your tongue?" Talon growled when no noise had been made by his captor.

He heard a deep breath as if someone was about to speak. "Fuck you." He stated again letting the rage he felt contort his words.

"Talon…?" He knew that voice. It was strong, but soft, harsh, but silky. "Talon… This wasn't supp-"

"Fuck you!" Talon bellowed in more fury than he thought possible. "You witch! You temptress! You fuck!" Talon spat each word at the woman. The coward still hadn't shown her perfect face.

"Talon… please. He wasn't supposed to know! My father wasn't supposed to know!" She was practically crying, but there was anger and pain in her voice. Talon stared at the cobble stone wall with conviction.

"Fuck you, Katarina. Fuck. You." Talon spat his last words, and then clamped his mouth shut. He heard her breathe in shakily once more, as if to speak again, but instead he heard the door close shut quietly, and the key slide into the lock. The footsteps up the stairs echoed through his mind countless minutes after they had ceased.

As the haze of pain slowly burned away he heard footsteps begin again. The stairs creaked and the lock rattled noisily before finally opening. "Fuck you." Talon snarled again. Unlike the last time, his words were met with a hearty laugh.

"The Blade's Shadow, Talon…" The voice paused. It was the same one as his assailants from his last fight. Talon strained against the ropes futilely again. The man continued, "So many titles for one so young. It is impressive, boy, to have a name of power on the street, and still be called a boy." The man came into view. He was wearing a deep purple suit, and the only noticeable weapon was a gilded, gem encrusted, rapier at his waist.

"You know, I was rather impressed by your fighting prowess. I have quite a few questions I would like to ask you if you would be so inclined to answer." The man said, a smirk never leaving his face. After Talon refused to comment the man continued, "Perhaps, an introduction would be beneficial. I am Marcus Du Couteau, a general in the glorious army of Noxus, and a high ranking official within the esteemed Noxian high command. How about yourself?"

"Fuck you." Talon remained uncooperative, although his struggle with his bonds had ended long ago, and he was still reminded of its futility by the blood that trickled down his hands.

The general laughed. "I have never heard someone prefer to be addressed by such vulgar language instead of their true name."

Talon snarled, but said nothing. Marcus Du Couteau sighed before walking around Talon and exiting from the door that must be behind him. The footsteps thudded off to silence. Talon hung his head in exhaustion. Minutes slid into hours. The hours slid into a night, which slid into a day.

When Marcus approached Talon he feared the boy had died, tied in his basement. As he grew nearer he saw Talon's eyes flutter and Marcus smiled at the boy's resilience. "Good afternoon, Talon." A flash of confusion on the boy's face was enough to show he had long since lost track of time. "I give you a choice, now, boy: Live, or Die."

Talon could barely raise his head, but his expression of resignation answered before he could mouth the word, live. His voice was soundless; just a stronger gasp of air than normal. Talon hung his head again as he grew dizzy.

"Good choice, Talon. Now, before I set you loose I am going to have to take… some precautions until I have your respect and I feel that I can trust you fully." An almost cruel, but with a glimmer of understanding the man revealed a leather collar… along with a small bell.

The fight had long since left Talon, but he refused to acknowledge the man or the infuriating collar he would be forced to wear. "Now I don't believe you are in any state to go to your new quarters in your currently, so I will fetch several of the guards to haul you up. Marcus Du Couteau vanished and left Talon with his stupid collar and his stupid bell. While hatred was a familiar feeling for Talon; Sadness was a raw emotion and he knew that the collar and bell around his neck stripped him of his most prized possession, and he doubted it would be returned to him quickly.

When the guards arrived they were accompanied by the same mage in purple robes. The man raised his hand and the blue tendrils began to bleed away from Talon. At this point he could not even feel the burning sensation he knew he should be feeling. He hardly cared. He began to lose consciousness. As the guards untied him, he knew this kiss of freedom was as fake as the bell around his neck was real. When the knots had been undone around his wrists he fell forward practically on his face, and his legs were still suspended by their own constraints. He barely grunted.

He blacked out as he was lifted off the ground to which he had fallen; The last sound he heard was the quiet, but relentless tinkling of the infernal instrument around his neck.

The next time he awoke was a blur of activity from various servants that entered and exited his room. They brought him water and food. They snickered at his bell. He could hardly blame them for their laughter; even he knew that the bell around his neck and his extreme exhaustion made him look like a fool. Several doctors approached him and examined him. His burnt body was healed by something for which he did not know.

He was lying on top of a bed, still only wearing a loin cloth that he had been wearing in the dungeons. The bed was the most pleasant thing he could possibly imagine. He remembered often mocking the nobles who had warm beds to return to each nice, but here, lying upon one, he could understand their love of the commodity. The room itself was bland. A small desk sat beneath a window and a chair was right next to it. A candle was on one corner and it seemed completely unused. The hardwood floor was interrupted by a black and red carpet that matched the burgundy color of the walls. He didn't hear from Marcus that day. He didn't hear from Katarina either.

Talon woke the next day with his shoulders on fire. Their pain was matched only by the burning sensation in his legs. The pain was not pain that could be healed easily. These were the wounds of a man who had been standing for days, internal weakness in his muscles. It assaulted his senses unexpectedly as if his lack of pain the day before had been too much.

Suddenly a weight landed on top of him. He hadn't heard any doors open or floor creak. Her red hair encased their heads and her piercing green eyes stared into his brooding brown eyes. Before he could properly react a rag of some sort was stuffed into his mouth and he found himself gagging. There was a pressure on his arms and legs. When he finally collected himself and gathered his senses, he realized that she had been sitting by her bedside.

"Talon. Listen to me." Katarina spoke. The desperation that had been in her voice previously had left, and now it was just pure anger and rage. Each word was punctuated with indignation. "I want to explain-"

Talon struggled against her grip. One of his legs slipped past her knee and he kicked upwards, grunting with effort. Katarina's eyes were full of surprise as he lifted her off of him, and flung her into the air. Talon rolled off the bed and coughed out the gag restraining his mouth. Despite his exhaustion he felt more alive than ever. Katarina was gone. The only ruining feature of the moment was the accompanying bell that sounded as he moved.

He brought his hand to it thoughtfully. The collar was made out of some sort of leather, but it was fitted to his neck without clasps that could be undone. The bell itself must have been brass, and it was warm to the touch from resting on his collar for so long.

There was only one window with in the room, but the morning sun, at least he thought it was morning, shone through and he could faintly hear bird calls in the distance. He would have smiled if the bell tied around his neck hadn't decided at that moment to shatter his peace. The window itself was shut and Talon was unable to see more than several walls in the distance. He sighed slowly and opened his door.

The mansion was massive. He had no recollection of any of its passages, but he wandered the halls aimlessly. He was rather surprised that he was even able to wander so freely. The hallways were grandiose in every way, from the sheer size to the lavish paintings and ceremonial swords that were on display through out.

He didn't get far before a servant of some kind intercepted him. The man was quite short, but still skinny. His expression was disdainful and as condescending as it could get. "Lord Marcus would like to see you, boy." The man had a horrid nasally voice. "Right this way." The man sniffed obnoxiously as he walked by and pretended to grow sick for a brief moment before continuing down the hall at a vigorous pace. As the walked the man turned his head slightly, "Try not to wake everyone within the keep with that infernal ringing."

Talon glowered in barely contained rage, but he knew better than hurting one of these servants.

They passed through a foyer which he could only assume led to the outside world. Two enormous staircases, that matched the rest of the house, spiraled to the second floor of the mansion. They passed numerous servants and it was getting to the point that Talon began to wonder if Marcus had his own personal army hidden away within the mansion.

They seemed to wander aimlessly through the mansion for countless minutes before the man led him up a staircase. It was at a far side of the mansion and spiraled up several stories. The staircase was no less grandiose than the rest of the house and the silver railings gleamed off any light source that could find them.

They only stopped climbing the staircase when there were no more stairs to climb. They followed a hallway to the right until they reached two massive oak doors that seemed to be in the half way through the house.

The man knocked on the door before scurrying away. "Stay there," he called out as he left. There was no response from behind the doors. Talon waited outside the door impatiently looking up and down the hallway for the rat of a man that had led him here.

Finally a voice boomed from behind the door, "Come on in boy! You are late!" Talon shrugged off the accusation and opened the enormous doors with slightly more effort than he was comfortable with, reminding him of his weak state. The room was circular and the far wall was made completely out of glass with several steel bars connecting the floor and ceiling. In the center of the room behind the large desk was Marcus Du Couteau. The man had several stacks of paper around him and a candle was smoldering on the desk as if he had been up all night.

"Do you know why you are worth having alive? What sets you apart from so many others?" Lord Marcus paused giving Talon a chance to mull over his words. "You, Blade's Shadow, you want to live. I can see it in your eyes, but not only do you want to live, but you want to be free! And, one cannot be free without fighting for that freedom every once and awhile."

Talon remained motionless taking in the Lord's words, As much as he hated the man for breaking his wings, he couldn't help, but to agree with his philosophies. He truly did want to be free.

"One day, boy, when we have garnered a relationship of respect I will let you free, and at that point I know you would rather serve me, then to return to your lifestyle as a rat." Marcus paused again as he seemed to have annoying habit of doing, almost like he expected a response after every sentence.

"Enough of my pointless banter. The first thing I require of you, Talon, is an unfortunate consequence of your origin. As I am sure you have noticed the servants around here see themselves above the peasants on the streets. You need to prove yourself to them Talon, and to do that you need them to fear you. There is no better way in Noxus as I am sure you know."

Talon watched Marcus with narrowed eyes. "What do you suggest?" He said with a growl in his voice. Talon already despised the scoundrel who escorted him to the room he was in now. Hell, the man hadn't even given his name, and if there was one thing Talon disliked was disrespect.

"I am merely pointing out that you are seen as the lowest, weakest scum with in this castle, and the sooner you earn their respect the easier your life will be." Lord Marcus answered uncharacteristically enthusiastically, perhaps appreciating Talon's greater responsiveness.

Talon raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on his odd change of character. "I summoned you here because I want you to know my intentions, and to know what I hope you will be." Marcus stood up from his seat at the desk and walked to the windows, on arm raised to rest against the glass. "I am going to train your natural skill, your natural instinct, and I will make you a fearsome assassin." Marcus turned to face Talon who remained standing just past the office doors in front of the large desk.

"The only problem with my plan is, of course, you." Lord Marcus continued. At that moment a loud knock on the office doors followed by the door opening interrupted Marcus.

The man who had burst through the door was panting and his chest heaved with each breath. "My liege! One of our clients is being overwhelmed and requires immediate assistance!"

"For crying out loud, how many times do I have to tell you fools to be more specific!" Marcus barked at the man. It seemed to Talon that this was a near daily occurrence. "Which client? What is going on?" Marcus asked slowly letting the man catch his breath.

"Uh, it is Lord Sarhk; The merchant caravan he was tasked with has been harassed all the way to the western reaches of the kingdom. The bandits have ravaged the convoy, and they need help." The man seemed to remember something and he reached into his pack and withdrew a rolled paper held secure with a ribbon. "This is Lord Sarhk's report."

Marcus walked around his desk and retrieved the scroll from the man. After briefly skimming through the paper Marcus looked up. "Excuse me Talon, but this requires my immediate attention. I expect to see you tomorrow with in the training building. I will introduce you to several of your instructors." Talon didn't make a sound, or move. "You are dismissed."

Talon left the room. As the door closed behind him he heard Marcus give an order to the page. The man was soon rushing past him. He was completely ignoring him. Talon was somewhat surprised that he cared at all.

The sun had hardly risen and Talon was completely lost as to what he should spend his time on. He had never had free time before and normally at this time he would be robbing, thieving, training, or sleeping. He could just explore.

As he wandered the halls of the mansion he was reminded of his early days with in the city of Noxus. It was a feeling of wonder and curiosity he hadn't felt since then, and he found that he loved discovery. He quickly discovered the mansion was really the main keep of a large castle. Walls encircled the keep and Talon couldn't believe the amount of men and women that moved about the various courtyards. He could see many workplaces such as blacksmiths, fletchers, and stables. Numerous chimneys sprayed smoke, darkening the already cloudy sky.

So, he would explore.

**/AN: Hey folks,**

**I hope you all enjoy this newest installment. I apologize about the rate of uploads recently, but it can't really be helped, so please forgive me. Regardless I will still do my best to update the story as quickly as I can because I have a lot of plans for Talon.**


	11. Loyalty

**/AN: Hey folks. Yeah, this took awhile. I would like to thank all of you that continue reading at this point. I know how obnoxious it is to follow a story that updates so irregularly, but I am trying and I hope you bear with me. College has been rough and I know it is a shitty excuse to some of us, but life has to come first as much as I wish it didn't all the time. **

**Chapter 10: Loyalty**

The castle was enormous; and, in fact, it was practically a town plus the walls and fortifications. He had been trying to find his bearings within the walls and he found it was incredibly difficult to navigate. So far, he had only managed to find several taverns that were all heavily occupied by foot soldiers loyal to Lord Marcus. The men were always in dress uniform, or at least formal wear. However, Talon was not fooled by their pretty get up. Even if the men were loyal to Marcus, Marcus still had allegiance to Noxus making the men nothing better than any other Noxian soldier. It was still Noxus, and it was still Noxus's army.

Presently, Talon wandered the numerous courtyards of the castle. At first, he had simply intended to wander aimlessly and somewhat discover the layout over time. However, given the size of the fortress it became apparent that it would take weeks to properly memorize the numerous buildings and roads. So, he changed his focus to finding the training rooms. He refused to be led by another snobby servant tomorrow.

The streets were relatively tight and, Talon, to his annoyance, found that he had to stay to the right to get by the constant streams of the soldiers that marched within the militarized area. In honesty it was impressive to hear the footsteps of the soldiers as they walked past and Talon could almost glimpse what Riven had found so enticing about them.

When Talon finally found the training room it was definitely not a training room. It was a training complex, and he began to wonder how the hell he had missed the complex to begin with. The site had been outside the inner walls and used a massive space between the outer and inner walls. He entered the facility through what appeared to be the entrance, but it was hard to tell due to the numerous open fields.

"Watch it, kid." An exhausted soldier covered in sweat knocked him roughly to the side. Talon glared at the man as he passed. "Look at the face he is making Craig! You really wound his gears." The man who had spoken was behind Talon, but following closely behind the asshole who shoved him. The man who had just spoken laughed before adding on, "And look at that stupid ass collar." Talon's blood boiled and he clenched his fists.

The soldier known as Craig turned around and eyed Talon's aggressive stare. "Those are fighting eyes, punk. Fuck off before we make you." Talon instinctively reached toward his belt, but none of his comforting daggers were there to be found. The soldier watched Talon's hand with barely concealed anger. "This little arrogant piece of work." The men had long since encircled him, and Talon knew his odds were stacked against him.

"Look, I don't want any trouble. I -" Talon attempted to deflate the situation, but was quickly interrupted by a fist. He dodged quickly and slammed his shoulder into the man attempting to grab him from the side. The man stumbled back and Talon shoved off of him, sending him sprawling. Talon propelled himself into the man across from him and head butted the unsuspecting man's nose. A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. He struggled to break free.

The man named Craig approached him as he twisted in his captors arms. Craig through a vicious punch. The blow slammed into Talon's face and he could feel his captor stumble backwards from the force of the blow. His eye's watered with the pain and he could feel an immense pressure in his nose. The next blow was already on the way by the time Talon recovered from the first. Talon barely dodged the blow and Craig almost hit the man restraining Talon as his fist swung through empty air.

Talon looked desperately around for an escape. There were none. Most of the soldiers walked past the scene as if it wasn't happening; however, there were a few who stood around cheering and shouting. Most of them appeared to be new recruits.

He was just considering using his magic when his musings were interrupted by a tall, well-built man. The man's mere presence seemed to disperse the crowd and as he grew closer his captor released him from his grip. Craig with his back still turned to the man approaching seemed confused if not slightly angry at his friend.

"Master Sauton!" His ex-captor behind him shouted. Talon could hear the man's boots click together as he went to salute. Craig's eyes flashed with brief fear before he too whipped around in attention.

"Take your boys back to the barracks, Craig. You all are on probation for the next week." Colonel Sauton motioned with his hands to indicate the two soldiers groaning on the ground as well as Craig and the man who had been holding him before addressing Talon. "I didn't expect Lord Du Couteau's lap dog would already be getting himself into fights." Talon felt his fists clench again as the man addressed him.

"Calm down, boy. You need to be expressionless, emotionless. An emotionless foe is much more terrifying than an angry fool." Talon looked past the man and at the vast training ground in front of him seemingly ignoring the man's words. "Ah, I see. Were you looking for the training grounds?" Talon nodded; the bell sounded. The colonel paid no mind to it. "Well, these are the army training fields, but you won't spend much time here at all. I imagine you will be training in the main keep."

What a waste of time this day had been. After the incident at the army training grounds Colonel Sauton had explained that the important and focused soldiers were trained with in the keep by specialized trainers, and that more often than not those lessons also included education of Noxian history, mathematics, and various other beginning studies. Useless.

By the time Talon made it back to the keep the sun was setting and a smell wafted throughout the building along with the sounds of pots and pans being moved about in a kitchen. The distant echoes of the pans and the warm smells that wafted through the halls made him hungry.

A man practically ran into him as he turned a corner. "Ah, damn it!" The servant shouted as a pile of linens fell to the floor. "Thought I heard your stupid bell ring." The servant simply stared at Talon waiting for a response. Talon made to step around the man, but the servant shouted angrily, "Pick up the clothes you dropped, rat!"

"No."

He heard several footsteps behind him, and he spun around to see the newcomers. They were all servants and they didn't look too helpful. They were all older looking men with tired eyes glowing with jealousy and anger. "Well, trash, are you going to help out my friend, there?"

Talon kicked the linens into the air and they helpfully fluttered in the air. He pulled on his magic and vanished. Sprinting down the hallway and making it into another foyer before the curtain of sheets had collapsed back into a pile. The men simply dispersed with several curses thrown about.

Talon slammed into a person in front of him as he looked away from the men cursing his name. "Hey! Watch it!" Katarina snarled angrily as she spun on her heel to face him. Her eyes softened briefly before darkening like thunder clouds. They both simultaneously took a step back each clearly remembering their last encounter. "What are you doing?" Katarina practically snarled at him. Before Talon could respond Lord Marcus approached them seemingly from nowhere. His expression was nearly unreadable except for the glint in his eyes that gave away his anger and curiosity at their interaction.

"I was just going to fetch my daughter for dinner, Talon," Marcus addressed Talon as if Katarina was not in the hallway with them. "I would like you to join us." Talon was under the impression that his polite words were nothing less than an order.

"As you wish." Talon stated simply.

His sentence was ended with a backhanded hit from Marcus that caught him so off guard that he didn't return his head to its previous position for a moment. "As you wish, Sir, boy." Marcus advised him afterwards. Talon glanced at Katarina and found that her poker face was rather good, and not to mention pretty. He hated her.

A smack for not saying sir? Talon tried to recall his last conversations with the lord Du Couteau, but could not remember uttering any such articles except for perhaps lord one time. Perhaps it was due to Katarina's presence or Marcus was as odd as Kaevyn. Somehow he doubted that. Talon turned his attention to Marcus.

"... You see, I would like to make amends for the way we first met. I know knifepoint isn't the best way to earn loyalty and while I am not averse to employing such techniques I prefer a solid meal and a hearty laugh." Marcus turned to leave before he had even finished his sentence and had already turned a corner before hollering back, "We are in the ballroom!"

The ballroom? The ballroom was a massive room that was furnished with bright lively colors along with massive banners of the Du Couteau household as well as the Noxian Standard or The Drake as it is more commonly referred to as.

The dinner was possibly the most awkward experience of his entire life. He had to admit, however, the meal truly was as lord Du Couteau had put it, 'His first true meal." Besides that it was a complete social disaster, at least as far as he could tell.

The ballroom was massive and his vision of hundreds of servants dining could have easily been fulfilled except that it was just the four of them with the occasional servant entering to wait on them. To make matters worse he hadn't even been introduced to the other girl sitting beside him, and it seemed no one was going to bother. Katarina sat across from the blonde beside him and he would bet they were related based on their similar facial features despite the stark contrast in hair and attire. He could only assume it was Cassiopeia the daughter he had read into.

Lord Du Couteau sat at the head of the table leaving no one in front of him. Talon couldn't help, but recall the servant that had interrupted their last conversation. It had been some sort of problem with guarding or escorting - some nonsense. It must have been resolved though, if Lord Du Couteau could sit and eat.

His musings were interrupted when Lord Du Couteau finally said, "Talon, how was your first day? Ignoring the several you were incarcerated and unable to move." The blonde girl looked up from her food and glanced his way before turning back.

Talon didn't really know how to respond. "I simply walked around, sir."

Lord Du Couteau smiled and said, "I suppose fighting several of my men would count as a stroll. For the record you are to train in the private training rooms alongside Katarina." A gagging sound from Katarina caused a brief pause in the conversation before Talon responded.

"Yes, sir, one of the trainers informed me as much."

"I was just making sure." Marcus took a drink from his wine before speaking again. "Cassie, have you met Talon yet?"

"Dad! I prefer Cass or just Cassiopeia." Cass practically exploded with annoyance and exasperation. Talon was rather proud that his mask hadn't failed to break at her outburst. Marcus on the other hand had the faintest hints of a smile on his face.

"Talon, this is my lovely daughter, Cass-ie." Marcus held out the cass long enough for everyone to expect he was leaving it there, but added the ie at the end bringing a sigh out of Cassiopeia.

Talon glanced at the girl and noted her fancy dress with gold embroidery. Her style was very different from Katarina's dark rough colors and the elegance about her was somewhat overbearing and disturbing. The excessive amount of makeup on her face that if even a bit more were added she would appear to be a clown. Yet, despite her over attention it was certainly not misplaced. She, like Katarina, was gorgeous.

Her only real flaw was her attitude. When Talon appeared to glance away she turned her face and scrunched her nose in disgust. It reminded him of the servants that thought to highly of themselves and could see a similar attitude in Cass.

Talon continued eating silently. Katarina and Cass exchanged words seldom and Talon largely ignored their attempts at banter among themselves. Marcus only sat at the head of the table with a seemingly unsatisfied expression on his face. He seemed to be debating something, but Talon didn't care enough to ask nor did he feel it appropriate anyway.

"You all," Marcus began slowly after an increasingly agonizing period of time, "should improve your attitudes." It was a simple statement, but it seemed so out of place amongst them. They all were so vastly different, but so similar. Katarina shared her beauty with her sister, but that is where the similarities ended. Marcus and Katarina were both assassins, but Marcus was cold and calculating while Katarina was rash and bold. Talon felt completely out of place amongst all of them.

"Talon, I expect you to report to the training room before dawn. Katarina, please, show him where it is. You all are dismissed when you finish." Katarina glanced at Talon and when he stood up she went to the door. As they left the room Talon could just barely hear Cass.

"Why would you share our table with that that fiend! That animal!" Her outburst seemed completely out of place to Talon and even further out of character. Talon didn't hear any more of the conversation. Instead he followed Katarina down the hallway.

"You should ignore her Talon. Noble birth means nothing here, and she is confused if she thinks she is safe with her good looks." Katarina's kind words were cleansing to his ears despite his outrage at her betrayal. When he didn't respond he heard Katarina sigh and look towards the floor. Strands of her hair fell in front of her face, and it took a lot of willpower to stay his hand.

"I don't care about her." His voice even scared himself with its sincerity. Katarina only looked away and continued down the hall. As they weaved their way through the mansion Talon contemplated the way he was to an extent. He loved the way he was. He was strong for being so cold. He was strong for not needing anyone. He was strong for still living. He regretted nothing. They descended a twisting staircase where Katarina stopped.

"This is where we train."

Talon woke up in a cold sweat. It had been ages since she had haunted him, but tonight she haunted his sleep again. Her crimson locks framing her tear stained face. Her crimson eyes welling with pain. Her infernal voice. Damn her words! Monster. That is what she called him. He could feel his insides convulse in the self-loathing she brought him. Sleeping was growing into a curse.

When Talon gave up on sleeping the horizon was tinged orange and the stars of the night had begun to fade slowly into the purple sea behind them. The bell around his neck made its infernal trill as he sat up in bed. He stared around his prison with distaste. The room had been more adequately furnished and Lord Marcus had made sure to fill the drawers with fine clothes that he claimed were practically peasant's wraps. Talon, however, knew that a peasant would probably kill for any of the garments stored in the wardrobe provided to him.

He refused to wear any of it and instead donned the clothes he had always worn, that he insisted on wearing. He could hear the distance thundering of footsteps as the guards rotated positions, the scurrying of servants as they cleaned the halls and prepared the keep for the day.

Despite the sounds he could hear the hall immediately outside his room was relatively empty and he was beginning to question his hearing abilities. There was a servant at the far end of the hall; and, unfortunately for Talon the man was in between him and the training room. As he drew closer he realized the servant was an ancient looking woman, although she was still certainly a servant.

"Are you the new boy?" The woman's voice creaked like an old house and her wrinkled features barely managed to form a smile that revealed her awful mouth of missing teeth. Talon ignored her and continued to turn right towards the staircase. "Now hold on there, young man."

Talon finally heeded her and turned to face her a questioning expression on his face. "I know that some of the servants here are rough on the new comers, but that is no reason to assume we all are that way." The knowing gleam in her eye was unsettling and Talon couldn't help, but question the ladies motivations.

"So, what is your name child?" The elder pressed.

"Talon."

"I see, my name is Meliai, but most people just call me old Mel." She cackled at the title, but Talon could see why that name had been chosen, especially the old. He shuddered just imagining experiencing so much time.

Talon turned to leave, but, again, was stopped.

"I wanted to tell you, regardless of your misconceptions, that Lord Du Couteau is a good man. I know that your manner of recruitment and the humiliation of a bell is a hard and trying experience, but it is out of respect that you are put to such extremes. Lord Du Couteau is not a cruel or benevolent man, but he is cunning and just. I hope that you will come to realize this, Lord Du Couteau can bring great and wonderful change to Noxus."

Talon only stared at her and while it may seem to an outsider that he blatantly blew the woman off he did take into account that the lady indeed seemed to vouch for the man, but it seemed unnecessary for such a woman to speak of his character to him. There was something that didn't quite add up.

The woman's gregarious smile was still plastered across her face as Talon turned away, and he didn't spare her a second thought as he made his way to the training room. The room was quite large and the floor was covered in a pretty thick layer of sand and dirt. It was meant to be padding to provide support from heavy falls, but to Talon it was just filth and a waste of effort. You should be trained for pain. Aside from the sand and dirt the room was completely empty aside several hooks and mounts in the wall and ceiling for various objects.

There was no sign of any trainers or any other person for that matter. There was only one real entrance to the room and Talon sat directly across from it waiting for his instructor that Lord Du Couteau claimed to be so talented.

An hour passed before anyone emerged into the room and to his surprise it was Lord Du Couteau followed by his daughter, Katarina. Talon hardly acknowledged their presence and surprisingly Lord Du Couteau seemed similarly disinterested with him. Talon only barely managed to catch his eye, but the Lord quickly moved his eyes to his daughter.

"That lazy punk is probably still asleep." Katarina remarked after they had been standing in the center of the room for several minutes. She was only several feet away from him, but seemed oblivious to his presence.

"Perhaps, we should start without him then."

"I don't even see why you want me to train with him."

"Kat, you know I want all three of you getting along for my plans."

"I know." Katarina looked away from her father for an awkward amount of time. Lord Du Couteau took the moment to lock eyes with Talon. To Talon it was almost as if Lord Du Couteau was shouting at him to creep up to Katarina.

He slunk behind her soundlessly. The sand barely shifting beneath his careful footsteps. As he approached arms distance Katarina straightened in surprise, but in the same moment he swept his feet beneath her sending her crashing to the dirt.

To his surprised Lord Du Couteau let out a hearty laugh. Katarina's surprised grunt was nearly completely overwhelmed. "What the fuck, Talon!" Katarina snarled.

"Now, now Kat, I encouraged him. You should be much more aware as you move around your environment. I have told you this over and over. You need to focus! We are a family of deadly assassins and there isn't a man out there that wouldn't mind claiming he cut one of us down!" The lord's voice was rather exasperated as if they had gone over this numerous times before.

Katarina's response was cut off by Lord Du Couteau continuing his lecture. "Yes, Kat, I know that you didn't expect to find anyone in the training room, but that is part of the problem! Expectations can blind you and at the very least put you at ease. Talon isn't even good at hiding, but he walked within lethal distance before you noticed!" Lord Du Couteau's exasperation quickly left his voice as more of an angry tone covered it as if he realized how significant Katarina's flaw was to her business.

Katarina's face reddened at his critique and Talon noticed her glance quickly at him. He knew his face was a mask of mystery. "Well, today is just show and tell." Lord Du Couteau began. "I just want to see you fight, and while I had the honor of dueling you earlier it was rather hard to focus on just exactly you moved."

"No weapons just yet, though. Just hand to hand and try not to kill one another."

Talon dropped into a fighting stance and began circling Katarina slowly strafing to her right, but maintaining a curve. Katarina glanced at Lord Du Couteau, but seeing his serious face dropped into a much more elegant stance than that of Talon. As they circled one another Talon couldn't help, but admire her. Katarina's red strands drifted across her bright flashing verdant eyes. She was standing on the balls of her feet and her hands were loose compared to Talon's fists. They circled each other.

As their circles tightened they began to exchange testing blows. They had only truly fought once before and neither of them were truly sure who had the advantage. Talon would block or deflect most of Katarina's strikes while she preferred to just barely dodge the blows. Talon had to admire her judgement and calm.

Talon lunged forward quickly. Instead of backing up like they had been doing he swung his left hand towards Katarina's head. Her back step that dodged his first strike put her in a poor position to dodge his follow up, but she rolled backwards leaping back to her feet and retaliating with a vicious swipe of her elbow.

The blow caught Talon's wrist. It stung, but pain was nothing new. He blocked her second strike. The blow slamming into his forearm. Her next blow was a brutal overhead chop, but Talon directed it away from himself and slammed his fist into her chest.

Talon heard her gasp from the blow, but his victory was short lived. Katarina swiped his feet out from under him and he could feel himself plummeting. The sand billowed around him as he rolled away from Katarina's imminent follow up, but it never came. She stood several paces away panting heavily.

The both brought up their guard and approached again. Lord Du Couteau simply watched well out of the way as the two assassins clashed.

Anger filled Talon as the fight drew on. Memories of meeting Katarina on the rooftops and the fateful events that led him to where he was now tormented him. His blood began boiling. Talon dodged a swift jab from Katarina only to have his chop blocked by her forearm. He attacked in a flurry of blows and when Katarina began struggling to keep up she leapt back. He was fueled with anger! His heart coursed with his rage. Talon jumped forward pressing his advantage, but he slipped up in the sand a crashed to the ground. Katarina dove down to him and pressed her fist to his neck. She looked up to Lord Du Couteau.

Talon could feel the sweat dripping from his body and from Katarina's drenched hair he knew she hadn't fared much better. Both of their bodies glistened in sweat and both of their chests heaved from their exertion.

"Very well done. Go get yourselves cleaned up and I will brief your instructors on what I think you both could improve on. Remember today was simply show and tell. Tomorrow the real training begins." Lord Du Couteau turned and exited the room.

Talon glanced at Katarina, both of them still breathing heavily. She matched his gaze although her eyes asked a question. Talon wasn't willing to think about it. As far as he was concerned she could drown in his outrage. He brushed off his pants and tunic before following Lord Du Couteau out of the room and up the stairs.

**/AN: ****I would love feed back on the fight scene and the character interactions as usual (I really feel like this is my weak point), but I would love to know what you all think. I feel like my descriptions are normally sufficient, but if I am wrong feel free to correct me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you hang around for the next one!**


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